Redux 3: There Goes My Hero
by Someone072
Summary: The Watchman has come home to Jump City after the Bloody Sunday bombing and the city's "Vagrant Vigilante" is far from pleased. Embarking on a war of attrition, Gar takes the offensive against an enemy that's growing steadily by the day. Rated M for heavy violence, foul language, sexual themes, alcohol references, and adult themes. NOT for young readers.
1. To Be Where I Have Been

I was to do the Amazon story but there's no need, I got a plan. I've put this off for a long while for lack of creatitivy and a busy life. I've tried so many times to get it right and it never worked. This, however, is the result of a story that just won't leave my head until it's done. There's a lot of questions to be answered (and I'll get the usual complaints about not answering them in the first sentence of the story, as usual) but this is gonna get wicked before it's done. Gar's not a nice person anymore. 

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><p><strong>To Be Where I Have Been…<strong>

**December 3, 2010**

_Four months since Argent and Starfire found their end inside the Titans' car. Four months of misery for members of those teams, both East and West, since their last ray of sunshine faded inside that fiery wreck. And as Jump City reels from the effects of that tragedy, with criminals from around the country flocking there to take advantage, the one man that could turn the tide in our favor just happened to be staring right through me in that asylum office._

_Garfield Logan, the "Watchman" of Jump City, sat still in the seat in front of my desk, looking at me but maybe not even noticing me at all. Those cold eyes reminded me of a few people I'd met during my visits to prisons in Gotham and Metropolis, a look of someone who'd seen Hell but still lived in this world. I suppose with what he's been through, I couldn't blame him but for the time being, there was still the business at hand..._

"_Garfield," I asked "when was the last time you were out of your cell?"_

_He didn't answer me right away, his right eye twitched a bit but finally he responded "Year." That voice sent a chill up my spine, a feeling I don't often get in this line of work. Here before me stood a man over six foot, with eyes like ice but with a voice like a devil's._

"_I see. Have you been made aware of the situations unfolding in your old city?"_

"_No."_

_That voice would take some time to get used to but it still nerved me. If not for his word he wouldn't kill me, he looked like he could do just that at any moment. "From what I understand they've cut off your contact with your friends back home. That's been lifted, you'll be able to contact them if you'd like."_

_He didn't thank me like I expected he would. All he did in response was to join his hands on his lap, leaning back in his chair a little bit._

"_As for the current situation in Jump City, it's time we filled you in." Turning to a screen in the room "You've missed a lot since you've been in solitary."_

_He stood up, alerting the guards at his action but I waved them off. What he did do was move to the screen to look at the map, silently. I watched him for a moment, wondering what it was like to be inside his mind for a moment, if only it were something sane to visit._

"_Talk."_

_Normally I'd respond to this insult but given the nature of his voice, this was probably the nicest tone I'd be getting._

"_Four months ago today, two of your former partners on the Titans were murdered by members of the metahuman organization "Illuminati". They're being led by Dr. Light, a former small-time villain that's now in command of what intelligence describes as "a small army". From a video sent to Jump City News, we've learned that he's challenging the city's underworld for dominance."_

"_Who does he have?"_

"_The JCPD suspects that he's been gathering up the supervillains in Jump City that aren't affiliated with Madame Rouge's group or the cartels. We've confirmed that former HIVE members Gizmo and Mammoth were responsible for the killing." For the first time in our meeting, I could tell I'd said something to startle him. I watched as his right fist closed into a ball, his nails digging into his skin. "Are you alright, Garfield?"_

"_Tell me more. Who else is there?"_

_He didn't even change his tone even as I could see the tension in his body language. "Madame Rouge has been recruiting several metahumans across America to help counter Light's organization. It's looking as if a metahuman war between both groups is imminent."_

"_Takes their mind off of the cartels, doesn't it? Probably still around…"_

"_That's where things are starting to wind down. Over the summer, the Bulletface-Triad alliance has helped push the Desades out of Jump City and into North Jump. They now control most of the organized crime in the city. The Desades are trying to rally in the slums but it's not looking very optimistic."_

_At that, he took a step to the screen and ran his finger over certain areas. I could hear him whispering to himself something but he was too quiet for my ears._

"_As it stands, the main opposition to the crime in Jump City is the Titans and the JCPD. However, with events folding the way they've been since your arrest, it's almost safe to say that Jump City's becoming a new Gotham. The economic crisis over the last two years has turned the former Jewel of the West into an ugly hunk of coal right before our eyes. It's only a matter of time before it burns itself out."_

"_What about the League?"_

"_They're still holding their agreement with the Titans not to encroach on their territory. However, it could be any day now before they decide to take action without Nightwing's approval."_

"_The city could become a warzone. People will die."_

_I nodded at the stark truth he'd presented "Once this thing goes off, it's likely that will."_

_He turned about finally, looking towards me. With a determined voice, he asked me frankly "What do you want me to d about this?"_

"_The President has tasked us with fixing this problem since the JCPD has lost its credibility. We believe that someone, possibly the man you described in Hangar 18, is manipulating events to bring chaos to Jump. We want you to find this man and deal with him."_

"_Ripper owns the cartels, maybe even the metahumans and the city. This won't be easy... or clean."_

"_It's why we chose you, Watchman. You've wasted your time in prison when you should've been handling crime at home. We can't have that time back so now you'll have to deal with a wave instead of a stream."_

"_It __**will**__ be ugly."_

"_As long as you keep civilians out of the morgue, you have our backing."_

"_I'll need a few items."_

"_Leave a list, you'll have it when you arrive in Jump City."_

"_Why are you doing this for me?"_

_At that, I took a step back to think for a few seconds how to word this. Then, it came to me so simply… "I've known some real bad scum and I've known some genuine kind souls in my life. It's not easy walking the line between both when it comes to someone like you. You were once the shining example of heroism and then you become the perfect example of a psychopath. And yet, through it all, you've always done what's right for good, not for your own selfish gain. We wanted a man on the good side who could be just as cruel to the bad guys as they are to us. As for me, I want to see your redemption. I want you to show people just how much they really needed you. Give them something to believe in, that things can be good if you just work for it. Go and watch out over them, Garfield Logan."_

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><p>Two days later, the man known as the "Watchman" has returned from his near three-year exile from the Bay City. Holoring back around his finger, giving off the illusion of a tall white man with black hair, he sits with the black trench around his body once more. On a bench, looking across the street of a Downtown avenue, he keeps his eyes glued to the entrance of the Jump City Regional Bank. Green sunglasses once again hiding his eyes, he can almost smell trouble coming. Then again, it's been two months since the JCRB's been robbed and it's way overdue for…<p>

There they go… Five suspect people appear near the stairs of the hapless bank. White van parked, they all dress in black and charge into the entrance, a big-time withdraw certainly on their minds.

"Bold. Daylight robbery, no finesse." Standing up, Gar pops his back a bit then makes for the back entrance of the bank.

Inside, the power appears to be switched off with the doorways being blocked by gunmen. Only emergency lights keep the room illuminated but this does little to help the patrons.

"Ok ladies and gentlemen, lets not make this too complicated.." the lead burglar announces, brandishing a polished, black AK-74 in hand.

Down the row of tellers, one of the other crew barks out demands with a female's voice "Faces on the ground and wallets out!"

With a well-practiced precision, the three free robbers spread out across the bank, throwing employees away from their desks and subduing the security guards. The criminals seem to be more worried about keeping prying eyes from looking in rather than making a scene: Then again, in a city like this, they're more likely to run into cartel goons than cops.

"Did the others get done on the roof?" the leader asks, waving the business-end of his gun around threateningly.

"Yeah, silent alarms have been shut off. The pigs will still be stuffin' their faces before they know we've been here." she replies, backhanding an overly brave customer down. Gun to the back of his head, she continues with as much casualness as possible "They're on the way down to the vault."

"Good, I want out of here ASAP. The cops aren't hard, but I got a bad feelin' about staying here."

"Hmm, unlocked door. Amateurs…" Gar mutters, noticing the broken lock on the ground, leaving the roof entrance wide open. A switch of his shotgun safety to "OFF" and a last inspection of his knives are all he needs before stepping into the darkness.  
>The hallways inside are almost black, suggesting that stealth seems to be high priority. "Must feel safe from the roof. Sloppy."<p>

On his toes, he tries to make as little noise as possible as he moves down the floors, listening for anyone with evil intentions waiting for him.

"Five guards, where's the brains?"

Down in the vault, the two men in question are busy working on the security locks on the safe, duffel bags ready by their sides. One works to override the self-powered keypad while the other cracks into the door's mighty, steel locking grid. Sparks fly on one side as steel constructs meet welding torches. On the other, a small console is plugged into the digital lock, trying thousands of combinations in an attempt to find the appropriate number.

"Move it, Einstein, we ain't got all day." the steel-breaker warns mockingly.

"I'm two steps ahead of you, looking for gold before you crack that door." the tech replies, green goggles reflecting light from the wildly flashing keypad.

"Screw gold, I want platinum?" the first man jokes "After this job though, I'll have enough to buy myself a pure platinum SUIT!"

Not liking the man's taste in style, the techie answers "How about you break that steel bolt already? You're running behind."

"Relax, I'm about to break through." A quick snicker on his part sounds next. "I can practically SMELL money!"

"_Vault Team, report?"_ the leader from upstairs calls in on a walkie-talkie.

"Code will be broken in twenty seconds. Meathead's making contact now on the final lock."

_"Make it quick gentlemen, time is money."_ The lead's voice emphasizes the severity of their efforts. _"Out!"_

"Contact! We're through!" the lock breaker announces, lock falling apart with his words.

"Digital code cracked, automated security system also down. We're in!" The techie announces, a better mood now that the hard part's done.

"Barely adults…" Gar's grizzly voice warns dangerously, bringing the attention of both thieves his way. As the techie reaches for a gun, Gar brings his left elbow into the crook's nose, sending blood jetting from the nostrils. The lock cracker raises his torch up to attack the Watchman but Gar changes into a wolf, leaping forward and sinking his sharp teeth into the side of the would-be attacker's body. He howls in pain as the fangs rip thick chunks of skin from his body, almost tearing into his liver.

The bleeding techie aims his gun this time but Gar takes the man's arm in hand, aiming it at the safecracker. With a single shot, his accomplice lies dead on the floor. Flipping him forward, gun sliding from the burglar's hand, Gar takes a knife and jams into the man's right trapezius muscle, bringing a terrific scream of agony.

Turning around to meet his face, Gar's hard, cut face stares with vicious malice at the pain-filled, young face of a man in deep, deep shit. "Names... Who do you work for?"

Desperate, the young man stammers aloud "What the fuck man? I thought this place was...?"

This doesn't make Gar happy one bit, he shows his lack of appreciation by fisting the knife deeper into the body, bringing another scream of pain from the helpless criminal.

"WHO?"

A cough, through gritted teeth he replies "Your mother..."

At first Gar's about to break out a roar… until he notices the safecracker's torch is a few feet away…

"What's taking them so long?" the female mutters impatiently at the delay. With good reason it seems as every second they delay, the chance of their discovery becomes likely.

Still, the three hostage takers of the crew keep their guns trained on the customers, also feeling the clock against them.

One gets bold enough to kneel down before one of the patrons and ask "Are you scared?"

His victim, a woman no older than 30, with tears down her face, meekly shakes her head in positive.

A grin crosses his face "Do I make you scared?"

"Y-Y-Yes..." she whispers.

Gun under her chin, he tells her "What's that? I can't hear you.."

"Oh give it a break!" the female burglar yells at him. "Getting your rocks off on a heist? Seriously, you're pathetic."

"Gotta kill time somehow until those two goons back up here." the first man answers, evil twist in his bass voice.

"Then get off the floor and go check on them!" the leader yells at him, annoyed one of his own crew would waste time like this.

Walking towards the dark stairwell leading to the bank vaults, the thieves are shocked into terror as the sound of a shotgun firing breaks the silence. Their associate flies back a few feet from the impact, his body bleeding from multiple entry wounds.  
>"Fuck me! What the hell did that?" one of the group yells, surprised and unsure where to aim his gun. There's good reason to be scared now: The man in the shadows isn't there anymore…<p>

"Quit asking and keep looking!" the woman bites back, furious at someone getting the drop on them. How true are those words a second later.

Falling from the ceiling, Gar lands between the two door guards, elbowing both and using another knife to blind one of the goons. Before the two remaining gunmen can spot Gar… he's gone again! Vanishing into a bug, he flew sight unseen into the rafters again.

"Oh fuck me…" the one surviving guard mutters, holding his nose as he eyes water up from the pressure.

"Shit, I knew we shouldn't have blacked out the lights…" the leader curses.

"No fucking shit, we gave this guy cover all over the place!" the woman shouts back while elbowing the leader.

"Cry me a river later, let's get this son of a bitch!"

"Pathetic..." Gar speaks out from the shadows, voice echoing across the silent hall.

"Anyone see him?"

"Yeah, he's hiding like a BITCH!" the leader sarcastically retorts, looking for SOMETHING to shoot at.

"Either way, we'll get him. He's screwed either way by keeping us trapped in here." the female answers for the two bickering men.

"No…" Behind them, the voice of a very upset vigilante is the last thing they hear. "you're trapped in here with me…"

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><p>"<em>Tonight's top story, the Jump City Regional Bank is the site of what police are calling an attempted heist that was interrupted by a mysterious stranger. Four men and a woman were found murdered during an attempt to rob the financial institution. None of the hostages or patrons were seriously injured in the attack, a fact many are grateful for in these difficult times. The witnesses are talking about a man in black who helped break up the robbery and presumably killed the thieves while they were in mid-operation. No details are being released yet but eyewitnesses report a gruesome scene as the bodies were reportedly ravaged beyond simple gunshot wounds.<br>More on this story at eleven."_

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><p>AN: I re-used the first bank robbery scene from Watchman (Draft One) because all it needed was some tweaking to fit Gar's new mindset. Having understood now the meaning of Death, meaning of morality, and his own actions, I don't believe Gar's going to be afraid to do.. well, anything anymore. Funny if you read this version of the heist and the original, this Gar would MURDER the original, no contest (and that feeling is what makes this my favorite draft, the dark content)

Trivia:  
>- Story title "There Goes My Hero" from Foo Fighter's song of the same name. Those remembering Draft Two will remember he used to listen to this song a lot.<br>- Arc title: "To Be Where I Have Been" is lyrics from "Kashmir" by Led Zeppelin.  
>- Illuminati's still here from my previous WM03 attempt.<br>- The bank scene is from WM Draft One but updated tastefully

Rhetorical:  
>It annoys me hearing "Awww I can't wait to see what Gar's gonna do" or "What will (so and so) say now that he's..", because it makes it sound like it "has" to be moral. In the beginning of this series, I tried to write Gar as the most human out of a world that seemed to lose it's humanity a bit in the daily hussle. Now, I'm writing it from the opposite perspective... Don't expect any happiness.<p> 


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: This is a chapter I thought up at work recently, considering how badly I botched Gar's return in draft one of Redux 3. I figured this might be a better setup, especially since it's focusing on his closest friends rather than Gar. This story ain't gonna be updated every day (I'm a busy person these days) but as long as the flow keeps up like this, this story will be done. I WANNA DO THAT GUNDAM STORY SO BAD!

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><p><strong>To Be Where I Have Been…<strong>

**December 5, 2010**

The stillness of the quiet room is suddenly interrupted by the sound of an alarm clock, buzzing impolitely as seven in the morning arrives. Stirring from peaceful sleep, a tired pair of purple eyes make contact with the device, switching off the alarm and turning on the radio.  
><em>"whenever we learn to take one step at a time, there's no need to rush, it's learning to fly, or falling in love…"<em>

Groaning a bit, a woman of purple rises out of the bed with hands on her face "It's too early for this…" before turning off the music.

After a quick shower, a healthy bowl of cereal is prepared as the radio in the kitchen announces the morning news.

"… _officials this morning are reporting that another shooting has taken place in the Chinatown section, leaving three locals dead. Police are telling the media that eyewitnesses have placed the blame on "white-skinned, armed men" and suggest a possible gangland connection…"_

The sweet smell of fine tea fills the air as the radio continues on.

"… _protest continues to grow across the world wide web amidst concerns that the government has been trying to suppress yesterday's release of thousands of sensitive diplomatic cables by the internet site WikiLeaks. President Obama had this to say about…"  
><em>The weather just keeps getting colder but, from a glance out of the kitchen window, the sun will at least be out today. With the water already at a boil, she can at least enjoy some bit of happiness the radio won't give her.

"…_and finally the 49ers are on the road today, facing off against the Green Bay Packers in what is expected to be played in below freezing temperatures…"_

Some time later, Raven can be seen sitting by a desk, room illuminated by the late-fall sun, reading what appears to be textbooks. Absent is the cloak and leotard, instead replaced by a pair of pajama pants and a baggy t-shirt. Classical music carries the feeling of a library inside the small living room, any means to help improve on this troublesome topic.

Out of the blue, the phone rings at the end of her desk, shaking her out of her reverie. Picking it up with her right, free hand, she slips it to her ear. "Hello?"

"_Raven, this is Jake. Are you free?"_

"I haven't heard from you since September. I'm surprised you're still alive." Despite the remark, the faint hint of a smile tells the true story.

However, Jake isn't in a playing mood _"Are you available right now?"_

"I'm catching up on some school work. What's the matter, you sound tenser than usual."

A cough on the other end of the line breaks the discussion a second before he replies _"Did you hear about the JCRB heist on Friday?"_

Tapping at a sentence in her book, she answers "Yeah, I heard it on the radio. You know something about it?"

"_It's only a feeling… but a feeling's better than nothing. How soon can you be in North Jump?"_

Her eyes leaving the book, she sits up with a bit of surprise to her face "North Jump? I wasn't planning on leaving the apartment today."

"_Grab you coat then, we need to meet."_

"Wait a minute, Jake,… I haven't heard from you in months and all of a sudden you…"

"_Be at the Johnston Apartments in two hours. I wouldn't ask you like this is it weren't important, Rae. But right now I need your help. Be there in two hours."_ CLICK.

Hanging up the phone, a look of concern further spreads across her ashen face. For a guy who's usually carefree. Might as see what he needs though…

* * *

><p>Sitting inside his beaten, weary Monte Carlo, Jake sits inside with a scowl on his face. A cigarette burns low on his lip, the window cracked just barely to let the smoke free. With the radio turned a bit loud, his engine running, and with a tapping foot, all he needs right now is two women to get here on time. It doesn't help matters that heating is off in the Apartments and his own car's heat is disappearing along with the smoke.<p>

Trying to kill the time, he takes a folder from the passenger seat and reviews some of his notes. Pictures of the JCRB heist, security footage being powered by private power, electricity that the criminals DIDN'T cut. Grainy images of course are visible, clarity's "too expensive" for cheap people these days. Still, it's the stills that have him occupied… someone's been making trouble for these criminals. The precision of it all gives the idea of an amateur away in a heartbeat. Three men dead from bullet wounds, two from sharp objects, and one of them had heavy burns marks. It doesn't make sense if the man's trying to be _discreet_ about his vigilantism… almost like they…

KNOCK KNOCK.

Shook out of his attention, Jake looks across at the sight of Rebecca Sinclair, blue in the face from the cold, demanding to be let in. Obliging, he opens the lock, letting her into what little heat there was in the car.

"Close that damn window, you're letting all the warm air out!" she orders to him, her former police nature still as obvious as ever.

"I don't want to be breathing in hot smoke; I'll take the cold anytime." Jake retorts, putting his folder in the back of the car. "Rav.. I mean "Rachel" will be here any minute."

"Maybe now you can tell me why you pretty much _demanded _that I come here?" The cold isn't going to disappear just yet and Jake's been _very_ vague on the details.

"Wait until she gets here, then I'll tell you."

…

"So, how have you been? I haven't talked to you since…" His cold eyes, even more frigid than the morning air, stare ahead at the street beyond. For a moment, Rebecca might even match that look to a certain mass-murder back in Gotham. "I'm sorry, forget I asked."

"It's the price I paid for thinking I could help him make a difference. Now I have two people I owe a debt to..." Looking towards the sidewalk, he spots her in her blue ski coat. "Raven's here. We can get going now."

* * *

><p>Driving past the hunks of buildings and "poverty-stricken environments", two very irritable women await answers from one stoic man. His seriousness, a very rare trait on his part, gives more to worry about than their destination.<p>

"So why did you drag me all the way from the city for this?" Raven asks, tapping her feet oh so similar to Rebecca right now.

Taking a breath, Jake advises her "Take a look at the photographs inside that folder next to you. See if you can tell me anything about them."

Eyebrow raised, she none-the-less follows through and observes the pictures. "These are really bad quality, you know that. It looks like pictures of the bank robbery."

"How'd you manage to get those?" Rebecca asks, wondering how this simple P.I. managed to…

"A favor from a friend working for Jump City Securities. And yes, those are pictures from the heist. Does the man in the coat look familiar?"

A moment of observation brings back a reply "Looks normal to me. Was he the one who killed those people?"

"They believe so. What we're doing right now is seeing if the man who did that to those bank robbers is still in town." Jake answers, taking a turn towards a certain section of North Jump.

"What makes you think he's in North Jump? He could be in Chinatown to if he wanted to escape." Sinclair points out, locking the door just in case something goes down at a red light.

"I'm with Rebecca on this, Jake, it doesn't make sense. What makes you think he's in North Jump?"

"He wouldn't go to Chinatown, there's too many Triads there. Someone acting as a vigilante might be considered a threat. But consider North Jump, a slum with barely any law and more trouble than a dive concert. The only trouble he'd get from major groups are the Desades, who are dying by the day, or the smaller groups in the city led by Bone. There's a LOT more places to hide than Downtown…"

"So where do you think we should start looking for him?" Raven asks, leaning up closer to them.

Hitting the brakes, he pulls in next to a derelict building. "The first place I'd look."

Looking out of the window, Raven's eyes grow wide at the realization of the location: An abandoned, small-time clinic with boarded up windows and doors, a complete shithole if she'd ever seen one. And the thought dawns on her sharp mind: This is not the first time she's been here. "Jake, this is…"

Turing to see her, Jake responds "This is where we start looking."

"Why here?" Rebecca asks, not knowing this place like the other two.

Opening the door, the P.I. answers "If he's back home, he'll have been here."

Using a crowbar from his trunk, Jake gets to work on the back door entrance. Very few, if any cars go by this area and fewer chances of witnesses to this breaking and entering. Once the three cold adults get through the barricaded door, the enter a very cold, very dark interior. Using her black magic, Raven summons up some light and guides them into the building. Not much more than dirt and debris is to be found, the building being left in very poor condition. A few bed frames are rusting, evidence of countertops are cracking, the walls covered in graffiti from a by-gone time.

"Oh my god…" Rebecca blurts out, looking into the back room of the place.

Coming over to meet her, the three look inside to find a dusty sleeping bag, some books… and what appears to be the remains of a trio of torn up seagulls. Feathers everywhere, evidence of butchery from the blood stains…

"Whomever it was got hungry." Jake whispers as they inspect the area further.

"The remains aren't decomposed yet." Rebecca points out, observing some of the remaining body parts. "They must've been eaten recently."

"These books and the sleeping bag were here in 2008 when I came by. They look like they've seen some age." Raven guesses, looking at the various titles. "A homeless man could've been the chicken for all we know."

"But how, the entrances are all boarded up." Jake reminds here, the boarded windows an obvious fact of that.

"Whoever would've lived here would've had a hard time seeing with the lack of light. They might've used a flashlight or something like that. You wouldn't be able to notice from outside, even if there were a lot of people walking on the sidewalk."

Taking in Rebecca's observation, Raven balls some of the sleeping bag material in her hand, it's previous occupant now firmly in her mind. "Are there anyway to collect evidence here? Fingerprints, footprints, anything?"

"With all the dust in here, I doubt that. And any footprints here look as though they've been here for quite a long time."

Observing the walls, Jake suggests "We've gotten a lead here, believe it or not. Someone's been using the Watchman's M.O. of dress, habits, and style of fighting with the exception of killing. My inquiry to Arkham Asylum says that Gar's still in prison…"

"Why didn't you CALL me that you thought Gar was back?" Raven asks, her emotions rising just a little bit.

"And raise your hopes needlessly? I have more respect for you than that, Rachel."

Huddling in her coat some more for heat, Rebecca suggests "We can check this out anytime we want. In the meantime, lets get back in that car."

* * *

><p>On their way across the Bay Bridge heading towards Jump, the car is eerily quiet as Raven stares out of the windows, lost deeply in thought. Jake and Rebecca talk quietly to themselves, giving the younger Goth some peace but the elephant is still in the air.<p>

"My only other lead burnt to the ground over three years ago. I'm going to do some more digging, see if I can't find any more clues. Someone's bound to have seen him."

"We still need more information about the man himself. I'll track down some of the witnesses, see if they can't give me a better description than the police statement."

Looking in the rear view at a very conflicted Raven, Jake asks frankly "Rachel, would you have any ideas on how to find this man?"

"Gar's still in Arkham so I'm not sure how we'd find a copycat. He could be anywhere."

"Maybe your friends in the Titans could help you,"

Eyes moving back towards the traffic coming past, she admits sadly "Ever since Starfire and Argent got killed, they've been focused entirely on the Illuminati. Rob.. Nightwing won't divert any resources to a man who just helped him indirectly."

After paying the toll, the black Monte Carlo streaks through town, a quiet in the car as the radio fills the air. Staring out, she notices a couple sitting on a bench for the next bus. Just your average tall man in a black overcoat sitting next to an foreign looking woman with flowers in her hair. Just another sight for the streets of Jump City.

* * *

><p>In the evening, the school books sit on the desk unopened, the radio remains off, not a sound of a steaming teapot… just the sound of soft breathing as Raven lies on her back on the bed, staring blankly at the popcorn-spackled white ceiling. Could it be true what Jake said, that Gar's really in Arkham still. Could it be that some maniac out there's copycatting Gar's style of crime fighting? Anything's possible, especially in this crazy city of Jump… but there was something about that old clinic, something that Jake and Rebecca missed. The feeling of that place spoke to her, the vibe that something, or someone, wasn't too far off. That hadn't been empty for years, the half-eaten birds were enough for that fact, but <em>who<em> was another story. ..

"Should I call Question? Maybe he'd know what to do." Her words sound so loud in a quiet room but reality reminds her of Gar's condition. "No, he'd say that Gar's still in prison just like Jake did."

Huddling herself into a ball, wrapping her arms around her legs, she whispers to herself for some reassurance "Gar, if only you could be here right now… You don't know just how much we all miss you."

Walking along a desolate street, one hand in his pocket, a solemn-faced man approaches an old building, not even worthy of a streetlamp to illuminate it. In his free hand, a bag of food for the night dangles, it's owner waiting to feast on it's nutrients. Rounding the corner, Gar looks to the back door and stops in his tracks. Sniffing the air, he can't smell anything direct from inside although the open door raises warnings in his head.

Inside, his animal eyesight pierces the darkness, not seeing anyone but smelling faint traces of scents in the air. Setting his food down by his books, Gar picks up on one particular scent near his sleeping bag. Taking a good whiff, he speaks aloud the first soft word since he's returned:  
>"Raven…?"<p>

* * *

><p>AN2: I like the idea of the P.I., a former cop, a reservist hero, and a dangerous vigilante together, it's what I wanted to do in Watchman Draft One (with the five people teaming up) but this feels more real. Again, I'm alluding to Raven's new "life" as it were since she's more or less resigned from active Titans duty. She'll still be on call if necessary but I think she's moving on in life. Jake is one of those people I like (and I know a few of these) that's seen so much stuff in their life, they almost get a sixth sense with things most people miss. What happened to his girl will be mentioned (he owes _two_ debts now?)

Trivia:  
>- WikiLeaks and the 49ers reference were real events, the Chinatown one is plot invented.<br>- Jump City Securities... c'mon, it's a cartoon.. just like "555" in every phone number.

Rhetorical:  
>Can you tell I'm listening to slow jazz throughout this chap?<p> 


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: "To we where I have been" is right. Since the last update, I've been through 2 hurricanes, various 200mile drives, and in a rebuilding stage in my house due to the weekend flood. As far as this story, I hit a MAJOR block. This story can go, literally, in 10 different ways. I'm going to attempt to write something BIG, trust me, it sounded great in my head. And don't worry if this chapter isn't too climatic given it's subject, this is just the warmup still. Then again, it is a nice chapter.

* * *

><p><strong>To Be Where I Have Been…<strong>

**December 12, 2010**

Six in the morning in Jump City and it's another chilly day for the Bay City. In one of the numerous diners in and around Jump, patrons idly eat their first meal of the day. None of the customers nor staff realize, however, that the man in the black coat sitting on a counter stool is one of the most infamous men in the city's history.

"_In sports this morning, the 49ers will try for a win this afternoon against the Seahawks following their loss in Green Bay last week. Also in action today are the North Jump Raiders as they battle it out against the Jacksonville Jaguars in Florida. The Raiders are six and six this season and hope to continue building momentum after last week's victory in San Diego over the Chargers…"_

"A glass of orange juice, order of wheat toast, and two orders of home fries." Placing his order down, the waitress takes his request away, leaving Gar to listen to the sports playing over the radio in the ceiling.  
><em>"In college football news, Auburn University quarterback Cam Newton is named Heisman Trophy award winner for the 2010 college football season. Following the announcement…"<em>

Bringing out a notebook from his inside coat pocket, Gar sets the book on the counter, using a pen to check some notes scribbled on the pages. Numbers, dates, addresses… and names, lots of names.

"Excuse me." Gar asks his waitress. "How long will this take? Need to make a phone call."

"Bout ten minutes, won't take long."

Nodding, he steps off the stool and heads for the door. A rare sight to be seen is outside anyway: A telephone booth.  
>…<p>

From the diner, one cannot tell what the tall stranger's speaking. Only a few minutes are spent, broken only by checks on the notebook and the watch on his wrist.

…

Back inside, the meal's delivered early and Gar can look forward to a stomach full of hot food. The message on the phone can wait, it's chow time right now.

* * *

><p>Hands in his pocket, the poor insulation giving the Johnston Apartments a drafty feel, Gar steps up the creaky stairwell with his green glasses on his eyes. The sounds of children enjoying their Sunday morning off and the familiar shouts of the more rowdy neighbors bring a fleeting moment of nostalgia back to the vigilante.<p>

Moving down the hallway of the fourth floor, the heavy boots on his feet thump above the old wood floors, bringing his attention to how much he's honestly grown. But at the sight of room 423, his body is the least concern. There won't be any need for a key here, the black Monte Carlo's owner isn't in the area and doesn't have a clue of the visitor he's missing. An eye to the left and right, the coast is clear, so the vigilante turns to the form of an ant to sneak under the doorway.

"You surprise me Jake Dewalt. I thought your woman would've helped clean up this mess."

Stepping through the tiny apartment, Gar observes the room, looking for something out of his view. The smell of cologne and bad cooking in his nose, reminders of days long ago when the vigilante had just started his crusade…  
>"Raven hasn't been here lately, can't pick up her scent." Looking in the bedroomoffice, Gar sees an address book next to the laptop. "Sloppy, Jake… Almost too easy."  
>Looking to the kitchen cabinet, Gar's stone expression expresses a tiny bit of cunning "Have to punish him." Opening the door, he spots what he's looking for. Inside, a pack of cigarettes and a bottle of Dewar's Scotch is present. "Keep the smokes, that scotch is mine."<br>Reading through the address book at the table, Gar takes his time reading through, adding some to his growing collection of information. One catches his attention however as one of the addresses, a "Rachel Roth" is highlighted by a stencil of a black bird.  
>"Subtle… " Stopping himself from opening the scotch, lest the smell give away his intrusion, he's forced to stay sober for this. "This is a good start. It should get the ball rolling."<p>

* * *

><p><em>"I got off the MUNI near my home, just a few blocks up from my usual stop outside of the corner food store. It was a LONG day at Jake's apartment; he needed some advice on a case that, for once, wasn't his copycat-Watchman theory. It's usually none of my business but I needed to get out for a few hours. When I look at the empty storefront windows reflecting my face, I can't help but notice the changes since Paris, some four years ago… The lines under my eyes get a bit longer each year, as do the ones on my forehead, funny since I'm only a few months shy of twenty-five and I'm already looking like an old woman…<em>

_I shouldn't complain too much; those wrinkles came from a career which paid for my apartment and college enrollment. Some nights I wish I could talk to Star, listen to her ramble on and on about something new that caught her eye; now all I can hear from her are voices in my memories. Outside of the relationships, I don't miss the bruises, the broken bones, the long hours… sooner or later you have to move on or you'll wind up burnt out or being lowered six feet into the Earth._

_It doesn't matter how low the temperature goes, I won't let the weather force me to buy more food just because I'm inside more than usual. Two bags should be enough, there's no need to overdo it. The only pain is trying to snag your keys from your pocket with two paper bags in your arms and THEN sliding said key into the lock. If I weren't too busy maintaining my "normal human" appearance, I'd use my magic to levitate the bags inside and save me the aggravation…_

_Inside the house though, I could feel the vibe change at an instant/ Even a non-psychic could tell that something wasn't right in this place for the apartment's usually dark and the kitchen light is turned off when I leave. This time, someone was in that kitchen, the light gave away that much. Setting the bags aside as quietly and softly as possible, I levitated an inch off the ground to hide my footsteps. The person in question was making noise, something shuffling around and coughing from time to time. Whomever it was, they were about to get a serious…_

…

_No way…_

…

_No way in AZAR…_

…

_He was sitting there at the table, eating what looked like beans from a bowl. MY bowl!_

"_What are you doing in my house?" I demanded raising my hands for an attack. This creep wasn't going to get out without a fight._

"_Eating."_

_That blunt tone raised more irritation in me than I expected, especially since the bastard didn't even turn around._

"_I can see that! Turn around!"_

_He stood up instead, keeping his back to me. And it was one thick back; he easily stood over six feet. Didn't he realize what I could do to him? Nope, he just walked right over to the sink and cleaned off the last of the beans and was washing the bowl._

"_TURN AROUND, NOW!"_

_He still kept at it, wiping the bowl with a towel. Then he spoke.. "Nice home. Had it long?"_

_I think I hissed, using my magic to psychically force him to turn around. And there before me stood a big hulk of a man with the blankest eyes and face I'd ever seen on a young adult._

_His right hand moved to a finger on his left, he asked me simply "Isn't that a rude thing to do to your old friend?"_

…_.._

_Green skin…_

…_._

Losing her willpower, Raven finds herself staring in a very startling stare, emotions running hig to be sure. No doubt a feeling of shock at the sight before her must've run through his mind. After all, this was the man who was supposed to be a continent away in a solitary cell in…

"Do you have any more beans? I haven't eaten any…"

Too late to finish that as Raven closes the gap and smacks Gar straight across the face. "ASSHOLE!" Cursing might not be her usual manner of speech but given the person in front of her…

No flinch, no change of expression, just a bruise growing on a green check.

"YOU'VE BEEN OUT OF ARKHAM AND YOU COULDN'T EVEN TELL US… TELL ME?"

His eyes still the stern, iron stare, Garfield doesn't react to Raven's accusations.  
>"AND NOW YOU'RE ASKING FOR FOOD EVEN AFTER YOU BROKE INTO MY APARTMENT? YOU MUST BE THE BIGGEST ASSHOLE ON THIS PLANET!"<br>He might be staying calm but his eyes notice that Raven's eyes aren't as dry as they were coming in. Also, while her wolf-like snarl might be fierce, it _is_ receding. "I am."

"You're damn right you _are_. Azar, why didn't you tell us you came home? How could you put me through that? What if we saw you dead on the news or something, what do you think we'd do then?" Taking a step back to match his eye without looking too high up, the purple orbs of a confused Goth meet the solemn, emerald eyes of a long-lost friend.

"Just got home. Needed to get settled in again."

"That's an excuse, not an answer Garfield! We haven't heard from you in over a year and a half…" Dry eyes aren't dry anymore. "We…. We thought you were dead."

Eyes still stoic and firm, he nonetheless takes a step forward, embracing his long-time friend in a tight hug. "Raven, if I died, you would have known."

The look in Gar's eyes contrasts the confused eyes of the young woman but his statement doesn't need asking about at this moment.  
>After a few minutes in their embrace, Raven leans back to ask simply with a few drops of moisture in her eyes "Can you stay for tea?"<br>The first time in their discussion, Gar nods his head with the smallest of smiles and accepts.

"It's nice." Gar mentions, looking out of the frosty window facing the alley.

"Hmm? What's nice?" Raven asks, the kettle starting to warm up a bit.  
>"Sitting at a table that wasn't bolted to the floor." Eyes narrowing, a memory popping out of the blue "It's been almost three years since I left Montoya's house."<p>

"Montoya, the GCPD detective? She let you stay in her house for awhile, right?"

Nodding, Gar can smell the tea brewing but for now, memories dominate. "Kind woman, serious most of the time." A rare bit of humor, albeit it bitterly, crosses his lips "Not every woman wants me in their home."  
>"It's what you do, Gar, not who you are." Eyes rising at that one, she catches herself before going too far.<p>

"Not all men are cut out for 9-to-5, must be hard to accept that."

"_Kristine didn't mind… Gar, some people out there still care about you."_ The tea nearly finished, she removes the thought from her head and gets too cups. "When did you last have tea?"

"Real or imitation? The prison had low-grade, barely more than powder and water. Real tea's been since Gotham."

Cups poured, Raven turns and assures him "Don't worry, I'm sure you'll _love_ this."

Taking the cup, Gar places it to his side and takes a sip. "That's good, damn good. You know your stuff, Raven."

Somehow being called "Raven" doesn't feel right, not when it's coming from his business-like tone. "Glad you like it. So, changing the subject, did they let you out early for good behavior?"

…"_Arbeit macht frei!", shouting, screaming, the crash of glass and orderlies running in to subdue a raging beast…_

"Something like that. I've been asked to finish what I start."

The peaceful feeling that had briefly filled the room vanishes in an instant. "Who? Who asked you to…"

"That's classified, Raven. Trust me, this goes deep."

"… I don't understand. Are you telling me that they _want_ you to continue being a vigilante? They don't _care_ if you get killed in doing it?"

The tea sitting idle, growing colder by the second, no hands come to grip it amongst this debate. "Doesn't matter. They gave me the chance, I need to seize it."

"Seize _what_ exactly? Gar, the people who've hurt you aren't the same anymore. The gangs are only fighting themselves, metahumans have come to this city like moths to a flame… The only way you're going to fix all of that is to take on ALL of that."

Determination in those cold, shallow eyes, Gar confirms for her "When I fled here, I left a terrible mess. I'm here to clean it up."

"So, _Watchman_, you've been let out of the insane asylum to come and do something's that's far more crazy? Instead of a few cartels, you're going to take on ALL of Jump City's crime? Have you lost your MIND?"

"No. Before I played by their rules, played things by ear. Not anymore. Now, I have a plan."

An eyebrow rising, Raven demands "What kind of _plan_ are you talking about?"

Pointing towards the phone, Gar suggests "Might want to get Jake and Ms. Sinclair here. This isn't going to be pleasant."

* * *

><p>AN2: Gar's back, Rae knows it now, Jake and co will too. Where does this go? It goes somewhere very dark. The "plan" is gonna be bloody but that'll be fleshed out over time. As for Rae/Gar, I based some of this off an experience of mine. Shock, no matter what the topic, takes days to get over, don't read TOO TOO much into this meeting.

Trivia:  
>- Football references again, they are real by the way.<br>- Dewar's scotch, my favorite :P

Rhetorical:  
>As Alan Moore said, no matter what you're writing about, from reality to total fantasy, everything must resonate on a human level. Gar might be cold, if not "spaced out" right now... but to be where he has been, you'll understand.<p> 


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: I'm back for the first time. I'm currently spliting writing with an Ace Combat forum. Ironically, in writing about Ace Combat, it sparked my writing juices for Watchman. This series doesn't die in my head, I just get spells were I doubt my writing ability. Then again, wine helps (yup, red wine). This is gonna be good, it brings one of my favorite small villains into the fray. The ball gets rolling here.

**Redux 3: There Goes My Hero**

"To Be Where I Have Been"

Chapter 4:

December 13, 2010

_"To be honest, when I awoke on the 13__th__ of December, I almost believed that the night prior was nothing more than an extended dream, a lucid nightmare where Gar had come back from his imprisonment in Arkham Asylum. He had come back with plans to continue his one-man crusade against Jump City's criminal organizations, pledging to take his campaign "serious" this time. Ironically, the fact is night of the 12__th__ wasn't a dream. It was a bittersweet fulfillment of a wish I held in my heart for over two three years. Garfield Mark Logan, the "Watchman" had come back into my life, for good or for ill, and there wasn't any going back. _

_And he hadn't even bothered to stick around for breakfast."_

* * *

><p>The scribbled address on the notepad had been correct; the location <em>was<em> a warehouse. A warehouse like hundreds of others throughout the Bay Area but a storehouse indeed. There'd be no way to know for sure who was there from the outside, no machinery or guards were present to tip him off. The only way to find out for sure was to walk in the front door and hope for the best.

A bit out of the ordinary, the old, weathered warehouse has a somewhat quaint-looking lobby. By "lobby", it's really a desk and a buzzer to let people through the back door. Still, the bored-looking receptionist doesn't seem to be much happier now that he has to work.

"Name?"  
>Barely out of the door, Gar answers "W.M.'<br>An eyebrow piques a bit on the man's face, curiosity enough to suggest "That a nickname or something?"  
>Gar has a chance to use his height now for effect. Standing tall over the desk, Gar's eyes are shaded by green sunglasses but his eyes stare nonetheless. "Is the boss in?"<br>"Appointment?"  
>Gar pull the right-side of his trench coat back, revealing two grenades and a "scrappy" looking switchblade. "Need to see the left?"<br>Unfazed, the receptionist simply moves to the left part of the desk to press a button. "Ma'am, there's a man here who wants to see you. A "W.M." he says."  
>"Send him in." the smooth European voice rings in Gar's ears like a funeral bell, turning his glare into a serious scowl.<br>Buzzing the door, the man beckons "Don't mind the fire guy. He's the loner type."

The building was most likely once storage space for some company in the past. The building's near 500 square foot dimension gives lots of space for the many occupants inside. No forklifting is to be done here nor any stocking and picking. Metahumans and characters abound, tinkering with tools and powers even as Gar walks past them. Firefly practices a new flamethrower, a woman in black wraps herself in shade and vanishes only to reappear seconds later, and even Captain Boomerang in the corner can be seen drawing up new plans.

As Gar walks, a young woman in heavy "goth" attire walks up to him and follows at his side. Piercings in her lip, eyebrows, and ears, she looks like a regular at a tattoo dive-parlor.  
>"You new?"<br>"Dropping in. Long stay out of town. How long you been in the Bay Area?"  
>Twirling what looks like a tattoo gun around her finger, she casually remarks "Six months. Rouge can be a bitch at times but she pays well."<br>"Really." Nearly at the office, Gar can't seem to shake away this woman who, weirdly, looks like a mix of Argent's fashion and a goth metal version of Raven's personality. "Anyone I should look out for."  
>"Firefly's a dick, straight up douche bag. Baby Doc's not here right now, he's an asshole. And be careful around Black Myst, the girl with the shadow powers. Baby Doc says she's into some violent shit."<br>Stopping at the base of the steps leading to Rouge, Gar asks "And your name?"  
>"People call me "T&amp;P", short for "Tattoo and Pierce." Taking her tattoo gun, she aims aside of Gar's head and fires a metal projectile past his face. With the object sticking in the wall, she smiles a bit "It's better than being "Lisa", right?"<br>"Much." Offering his hand, Gar informs this newcomer "Call me Watchman."  
>After the handshake, Gar heads up the steps a bit before he hears her call out "THE Watchman? The one that killed…"<br>"All one hundred of them."

* * *

><p>After permission to enter, Watchman steps into the ordinary-looking office of one of Jump's most extraordinary criminals. Barely any sign of vanity are to be found; no expensive clocks, no fine Ming vases, nothing that would scream "criminal mastermind." Just a woman sitting at her desk, her name on a sign for visitors, and a computer screen turning off.<br>"Of all the people in my life I expect to come visit me," Rouge's thick pseudo-French accent isn't as welcoming as the words "I never expected you to visit me in my office so soon. It has been three long years since we last heard news about you, Mr. Watchman."  
>This is the woman that made life hell for the Doom Patrol, for the Titans, but more importantly, for Gar above all. To think that all of this past can be put away so easily might be one's downfall in a case like this.<br>"Well, aren't you going to say "hello?" You have come so far from the asylum, don't I at least get a "how are you?"  
>"Four years since I last saw you. You're still a bitch."<br>No more coy smile on her face as Rouge slides to her feet. Office dress be damned, this woman can become a warrior again in a heartbeat. "And you are still a rude little bastard of a child who could never let a grudge go."  
>"Beast Boy hasn't died completely. The Brotherhood never let a grudge go neither, that makes us even."<br>Sitting back down, Rouge waves off the former criminal empire "The Brotherhood was a doomed project from the beginning. No goods goals, all grand ideas, no appreciation of the small things that make success possible."  
>"Like hiring underlings to do your work for you?"<br>"They came to me to find work in a city where the Justice League is not breathing down their neck. Can I be blamed when my biggest enemy happens to have almost a hundred members under his wing?"  
>That's the first bit of information he's heard in a long time, enough to warrant a jot down on his notepad. "A hundred members? You refer to Dr. Light's Illuminati, right?"<br>"That ungrateful, spineless, drug-dependent old man… what he has offered to his underlings is glory in return for treachery. They believe they will take over Jump City if they just follow him. Villainy any crime are businesses, not empire building."  
>"You don't say."<br>"Unlike you, Watchman, I do not kill for the fun of it. There needs to be a good motive or else precious time is wasted." Folding her hand into a ball, she rests her head a minute and looks at the former hero. "You have grown since I last saw you."  
>"Do the original HIVE members Gizmo and Mammoth still work for Dr. Light?"<br>A sigh of resignation, Rouge concedes "Yes and they are still at large. You probably want to "speak" to them about your former friends being killed in that carbomb?"  
>"They're leverage."<br>"Leverage? I would have thought they would be next on your one hundred man killing spree?"

Turning towards the window facing the floor, Gar asks of Rouge "Have you ever killed someone because you were deceived?"  
>"Perhaps, when I was younger."<br>Eyes narrowing, Gar confides "I was put into a situation I couldn't get out of unless I killed. The place was filled with criminals that believed I was going to rat them out to the GCPD. The door was locked and the shutters closed."  
>Chin in both hands as she leans on the table, Rouge's attention is certainly entranced. "So you fought your way out?"<br>"Killing is easy. Anyone with a finger can fire a gun. But the man who set me up, the one who lead those criminals to the slaughter… he isn't a man."  
>"Hold on a minute. You say you were set up but… a man or a creature? How come no news reported that?"<br>A sound of flint sparking to life echoes in Gar's right hand, bringing a tinge of fear to Rouge's face. "Because he fled before I could catch him. That creature had half of a face; One of a human, the other of a skeleton. He killed Jinx, he killed my girlfriend, he tried to kill Detective Montoya, and he set me up for one of the biggest murder cases in history."  
>"How could he have half a face? Was he an android perhaps?" As long as he keeps that lighter away from her, it helps to keep indulging him.<br>"Perhaps. He appears in Victorian clothes, Jack the Ripper theme given his name literally was "Ripper.'  
>"He sounds like a mental case, twisted and evil. But how can anyone prove this if no one saw it."<br>"Did you ever hear what happened to the assassin Deadshot? He lost his kneecap because he knew Ripper." Turning to Rouge, the zippo snaps shut "If I could do that to Deadshot, just what do you think I'll do when I find Ripper?"  
>"So you're not really here for revenge against me and my organization? You're here to help find Ripper?"<br>"No, I'm here to ask your help in finding Gizmo and Mammoth. Dominoes must start at the beginning in order to reach an end."  
>"That may be difficult. Dr. Light covers his tracks well. No one even knows where he base is."<br>Snap, the zippo comes back to life again. "Do you have someone who can hack computers? Gizmo surely visits the internet."  
>"Hm? You have a point."<br>Rouge's expression may be lightening but Gar's keeps falling into a more stoic and stone-like appearance by the second. "He's a technophobe, enjoys all that crap. Probably surfs the net nonstop. If you have a hacker or someone good with computers, we could get a rendezvous."  
>"Technophobes like that child are geeks, we could use a woman." Hand to her chin in thought, Rouge considers the possibility "I know someone in our group who could work with you."<br>"Nothing's free in this world. How much?"  
>A grin across her face, Rouge declares "That's up to her, she's a feisty one." Pressing a button on the phone, Rouge announces over the PA "Hey Sparky, come up to the office if you please."<br>"Another one of your new recruits?"  
>Putting the phone back, Rouge smiles even wider "No, she is a veteran of these sort of things. She will be perfect at this."<p>

A spark runs up the wall until it jumps from the telephone and onto the floor. The spark takes the form of a woman in blue with blue hair and an electric figure. Striking a pose, this woman's voice comes out proud and loud "Someone better dial up the electrician because sparks are flyin' in here."  
>Taking off his sunglasses, Gar remarks with a bit of humor "This could be fun after all."<br>"Hellllooo, tall, dark, and Irish I'd say. You wouldn't be an elf, would ya?"  
>Rouge interjects before Gar decides to do something foolish in her office. "Livewire, the Watchman here needs a little help finding someone. We both agreed you'd be perfect for the job."<br>"Watchman? Shame you ain't made out of electricity or I'd watch you all day."  
>"You can travel through electronics, right?"<br>Spinning about with electric running through her hands, she whirls about "Baby, I speed down the ol' superhighway faster than Superbrat with the runs. You need somethin', Livewire's your gal."  
>'Good, what's your price."<br>Turning to Rouge, Livewire remarks 'He's got the looks and the books, don't he Rouge?' Back to Gar, she suggests "As you can tell, money ain't gonna be little ol' me much good. They say a diamond's a girl's best friend but I wish Santa would just bring me a power boost."

"You could get energy anywhere; there's lines all over the place."  
>Zipping over towards Gar, she pokes him in the chest "That's no way to impress a gal, big fella. Gotta think bigger."<br>"Gold conducts electricity the best, right? Would that work for you?"  
>"You're getting' warmer babe, but I need somethin' that'll last."<br>What to get, what to get? Trip to Hoover Dam? Too obvious. Trip to the Nuclear Plant? They'll say he's a terrorist…. Wait…. What did Dr. Light use on the City Hall attack…  
>'You got something? Survey says?"<br>"How about a pound of Xenothium?" If she don't take this then…

Grabbing him by the collar of his coat, she gets in his face and asks with pure excitement "WOULD YOU? You would get me a POUND of PURE GRADE XENOTHIUM? FOR ME?"  
>"If you can find the hacker I'm after, yes. I'll bring you a pound of xenothium." This woman's tone sure changed in a hurry.<br>"That's a generous payment for such a small task, Watchman." Rouge points out, smiling in jest at Livewire's ecstatic response.  
>"Consider it a good faith payment to the start of a working relationship. And, Livewire, you can let go of my collar now."<br>"Heh, sorry about that handsome, not many gals like me get a guy willin' to steal some high-tech power for them."

"I'll need some help getting the compound. There's some people in North Jump that owe me a favor. I'll be using them to get the stuff."  
>"Do you mean that private eye friend of your's?"<br>"This isn't business he'd enjoy, it's about using another pawn on the board." Glasses going back onto the face, he continues "I doubt he'd like me to call him that but it's something he'll have to put up with."  
>"Hey, it's your call. As far as your proposal for a "working relationship", if it benefits me and not the Illuminati, I suppose we can work out something." Rouge takes on a more somber note, folding her hands together as she speaks "I know I have caused you trouble for most of your life, Watchman. Under the Brain, I committed some heinous acts, but know that I am no longer affiliated with that insane being. True, I am a criminal, but if it weren't for criminals, would the heroes not be so respected? You may not consider yourself a hero but, like I said, you are still Beast Boy beneath that cold shell of yours. What you have in store for Gizmo and Mammoth, I cannot say if it will cost them their life, but I believe you are doing this for this corrupt city. Continue doing what you are doing to make them better. As long as you and I can work together, we may bring some sanity to this city."<br>"Nice speech, Rouge, but you're still a criminal. You couldn't give a damn about this city in the end."  
>"We steal only from the bigger criminals. The Bulletface Gang, the Triads, they are all worse than we will ever be."<br>Zippo coming back to life once more with a snap, Gar asks "And the Desades?"  
>"Their fate is already sealed. With you back, how much longer can they survive?"<br>There was something desperate to her face, like the sadness of a 49ers fan as another season went down the tubes. She didn't speak of the Bulletface Gang or Triads in such sad tones, only the people who pushed drugs got her sympathy? Another topic for another day but something definitely worth keeping in the back on one's head.  
>"Hey, why all this serious talk? If we're gonna go find ourselves a hacker, we should get to work, stop all this sappy reminiscing." Snapping her fingers, she taps Gar in the chest "What's the hacker's name, babe?"<br>"He goes by the name Gizmo. Rouge says he's working with the Illuminati right now."  
>Crossing her arms, she curses her luck "Couldn't be someone difficult, could it? If he's in the Illuminati, he's within twenty miles of this place. But, you bring me that xenothium, then there won't be anything to worry about." Flipping a finger towards Madame Rouge, Livewire transmutes into electricity and flows into the computer.<br>Gar begins to step out of the office, the clock ticking on Gizmo's future starting now.

"Watchman." Rouge calls to stop the man from leaving.  
>"Hm?"<p>

"What made you change your mind about working with criminals? Why did you give up your heroic instincts so easily?"  
>"It took a brownie laced with White Rabbit to make me realize that the Titans weren't doing anything except the normal routine. I wanted to do some real good for Jump City. My good deed didn't go unpunished."<p>

* * *

><p>AN2: After revisions in my head, I came to realize that Madame Rouge isn't as evil as I thought. She always seemed a person that knew what she wanted but had to deal with the Brain hovering over her shoulder. Without him, she might run her own gig but with a better grasp of "business" than he. Livewire is someone I've always enjoyed watching in the cartoons. It's fun to write a character like her's, even if it's only a small bit.

... I sense Gar has something wrong with him, something that runs deeper than the conscious. Some may call it a deathwish but I think it's beyond that.

Trivia:  
>T&amp;P, Baby Doc, Black Myst are OCs, no history in the comics.<p> 


	5. Chapter 5

A/N: What a wicked holiday season. Between car trouble and being sick, I'm back to just straight relaxing. This took like five drafts because nothing felt right. There's some action, some plot development, and some funny moments.

**Redux 3: There Goes My Hero**

"To Be Where I Have Been"

Chapter 5:

December 16, 2010:

One of the few known facts about Garfield "Watchman" Logan is that he's known to use abandoned buildings and empty houses as hideouts and storage. The ocean-front garage, the abandoned clinic, these are just a few buildings that Jake or Raven might mention that Gar frequented. Many, however, remain a mystery even as the former hero has returned from Gotham. One of these locations, a burnt-up wreck in Chinatown, stands just fifty yards away from the window of Mao himself.

Looking out from the blackened window, binoculars reveal green eyes peering across the distance. Spying for the man himself, maybe a sight of Void or Ripper, something has yet to reveal itself to Gar's curiosity.  
><em>"You've been away since lunch. Who's bending your ear, Mao?"<em>

Putting down the lenses, Gar sits down out of sit of any would-be spies. The short hand on his clock starts to dive into the evening, the room temperature inside dropping even faster.  
>Tapping the earpiece, Gar calls for an old friend "Q, are you awake?"<p>

"_Of course. How long were you going to wait before you called me?"_

A little bit of chill in that voice but it's to be expected of an information-driven nutcase. "You probably knew the minute I stepped out of Arkham."

"_Hardly a way to greet an old friend by asking for business advice though. Where are you now?"_

"Across the street from Mao's Triad HQ. Chinatown really does smell like fish."

"_If you get into trouble, you could always sneak out in a fishbag."_

"I'm not on the menu tonight." Peeking out of the window again, still no Mao. "You don't know where Mao is, do you?"

'_Mao's been away since Monday, it's unlikely he'll be back until tomorrow. Were you going to bribe him like your friends up in North Jump?"_

A sneer at the proposal, Gar searches the streets instead. "It isn't bribery if they make you work for their services."

"_What did Bone want?"_

"Two kegs of beer and a thirty dollar cigar. The smoke I could afford but the beer's another story. Another mark in a long-list of black marks in the Watchman mythos."

Sounding something like a scoff in disbelief, Question retorts through the earpiece _"Grand theft larceny and association with organized crime is below a man of your "mythic" status."_

…  
>A snap of flint, butane converts into a flame, and the sound of burning and puffing speaks through the earpiece.<p>

_"Always wondered why you didn't smoke before I met you."_

A short cigar clenched between his teeth, Gar dryly comments "People like Jake, you, and Raven pushed me to this. I swear my life's like a book to you people."  
><em>"It's Jake profession to know how to read people. As far as you howver…"<em>

"You read everyone's book, I know."

"_Speaking of centrist-leaning mind-reader,"_ asks Question, ignoring Gar's sarcasm _"are you two fighting already? You haven't even been home for a month."_

A long drag on the cherry-flavored tobacco, Gar comments on his friend "Fighting's bearable; I can handle. Being _protective_ of me's another matter."

"_She's resisting your coming back to find Ripper?"_

Removing the sunglasses, Gar admits earnestly "Among other things: She thinks I have Post-Traumatic."

"… _Because of Arkham?"_

Leaning against the wall, the words come on their own: "Because Kristine and Jinx were killed.; because I killed a hundred people; or because I'm such a miserable fuck.'

"_Considering the things you've seen, the fact you're still trying to fight for good is worth something."_

"We all have mental issues, right? I could have PTSD and you can get worse with that paranoia."

No smile on that blank face _"Paranoia is the denial of Instinct. We cannot live on without instincts."_

"Fortune favors the strong?"

"Black and white, no hope of gray."

What the fuck? Looking out of the window at the office window, Gar can see a familiar woman in black searching Mao's table.

"_You're quiet, Watchman."_

"There's a woman in Mao's office and she ain't housekeeping." Glasses back to his eyes, he observes the woman in silk looking for something in the many desk drawers. There's something familiar in her dress style and hair."No way."

"_What happened?"_

A grin on his face, Gar answers "It's Daiyu, the Black Jade. She was outside Kristine's house when I found the body."

"_You sound alert for once. She must be a looker."_

"Sorry, can you repeat that?" Tapping the earpiece, he shuts off the comm with gusto. Enough of that humor, it's time he had a long chat with one of Jump City's most ruthless killers.

~~~

Following her black SUV isn't as difficult as dealing with the boredom of following the vehicle all over town. Finding the right moment to strike involves keeping eyewitnesses to a minimum, staying out of sight of any Bulletface or Triad members, and damn well sure Bryson doesn't realize he's back so soon. Still, the random stops about town and the hour-long meeting with Bryson has taken a large chunk out of the remainder of the day, stretching well into the night. Finally around midnight, Gar can observe Daiyu making it home in time for some sleep. Sleep might be for normal people but predators do their best hunting at night.

The fifth-story loft apartment faces inward toward the city but still manages to capture a view all on its own. Standing on the stone balcony, Gar can only wonder how much blood money it took to pay for this sort of view. Inside, the alarm system hasn't detected the single spider entering through the sliding-glass door, giving Watchman the opportunity to observe his surroundings. Just another modern apartment loft in a city filled with upscale lofts, one without much flair except for the occasional nic-nac or two.

Stepping softly, Gar moves into the living room, listening intently for any sounds of approaching footsteps. His eyes, however, fixate on the various Oriental pieces of furniture and pottery. Daiyu may live in America but her roots apparently remain strong. Perhaps this woman might be something of an oddity in this chaotic city, a warrior woman but one who masters her home as well.

Looking down the hallway, the coast is still clear, although finding any computers or files might hard to come by without getting close to the bedroom. Still, that doesn't mean one can't try and find _something_ for leverage. Changing his body into that of a Siamese cat, the feline saunters down the soft-carpeted hallway to a series of rooms, none of them making the usual humming sound of a powered-up computer.  
>Turning its head to the room to his right, the faint sound of breathing can be heard from the bedroom. If there's no way to get intel, it might be time to take the direct route. Cat changing into a lizard, the tiny reptile forces it's way under the oak door, appearing inside a ruby-colored room with a plush red rug. Skin color changing from green to red, the lizard sprints towards the dresser by the bed on his left.<p>

…

Standing up in human form, he pauses for a moment to study Daiyu's expression. Sound asleep and breathing peacefully, she'd almost pass for your usual Bay Area resident when she'd put away the knives and .357s. No more time for peace, however, things are about to turn batshit in a moment.  
>Gar pulls one of the drawers of the dresser out slowly, quietly, trying not to rouse her from her sound sleep. Inhaling a bit, he braces for the noise.<br>WHAM!  
>Eyes coming alive with a jolt, Daiyu scans the room for the offending noise… but nothing appears to be. Sitting up, rubbing her eyes with her fingers, she tries to justify the noise as a nightmare perhaps. Lying back down, she closes her eyes, letting her heart move back into a normal pace.<br>"It's not polite to ignore your guests."

That catches her attention like a shot to the chest, her body turning her about before her mind can register the voice. Grabbing a hairpin knife from under her pillow, ready to strike, she's halfway about when she sees…

"Definitely rude to pull a knife on them." Standing in his glory, the green-skinned Watchman stands with her old .357 aimed at her face. With the least bit of humor, he advises her "I'll overlook your rudeness if you can help me find the tea kettle. I've gotten thirty waiting all night for you."  
>There will be no threat, however, as she slides off the bed across from Gar with her knife in hand. Although at a disadvantage, she'll betray none of that.<br>"I never pictured you as the tomboy type." Observing her large t-shirt and sweat shorts, Gar dares to taunt her further "I guess the kimono look is just a cover-up."

Throwing the hairpin with expert aim, she manages to stick the blade into the barrel of the revolver. "SHIT!"

Out in the hallway, Gar bursts from the bedroom, scrambling to get to the kitchen. Behind him, an enraged Daiyu pursues with a pair of blades pulled from somewhere. Catching him near the kitchen, she swings at his face again and again, vainly trying to land the critical blow. Gar evades back and forth, ducking and weaving like a boxer as he tries to get into an open space where he has the advantage.

"You break into my home," Daiyu growls between gnashed teeth "violate my bedroom," A swipe at the face cuts only through the air ", and once again you insult my HONOR? I WILL have your eyes, WATCHMAN!"

Rolling over the couch, Gar lands on his feet like a catch, trying to grab his own knife inside the trench coat but Daiyu pursues like a bat out of hell. "Nice to see you haven't changed. WHOA!"

The downward swipe at his head forced Gar to jump to his side, breaking a glass table and forcing him to lose his balance. "And you still the same little coward who only knows how to run away!"

"It's not polite to hit a woman…" Kicking one of the table stools at her, the move only slows her progress a bit "but this needs to stop.'

"It will when I drive this blade into your heart!"

Daiyu moves in for a lunge, aiming the blade straight at Gar's chest. The Watchman, however, decides to end this fight as they close in near the kitchen sink. Moving into her attack, Gar latches onto her arm, twists it with both hands, and locks it behind the small of her back.

"What the hell are you DOING?"

"If you're going to attack everything you see, sooner or later you'll end up dead." Trying to club him from over her shoulder, Gar only puts more pressure on her right arm for emphasis. "Daiyu, we can do this one of two ways. I can break your shoulder into pieces or we can discuss this like adults."

"You're just another fucking child who…"

Almost lifting her up off the floor, the patience in his tone doesn't seem so obvious "If I'm a child, fine, so be it, I'm a child. I'm a six foot four child who happens to have eight inches and almost a hundred and fifty pounds over you. If I wanted to, I could turn into a bear and break your neck like a chicken's. So, for fuck's sake, calm down and stop trying to slice and dice me for just a moment, PLEASE."

"Why should I?" Spitting at the thought of being civil with this man has her stomach feeling sick.

That tone vanishes when Gar reveals a knife of his own. Holding it in front of her own face, the blade is far bigger and sharper than Daiyu's hairpins. "Because I haven't forgiven you for playing a part in my girlfriend's murder."

"I can't believe I'm doing this." The bitter words from the young Chinese woman almost ruin the sweet smell of black tea in the air. A steaming pot of water on the stove fills Gar's nose while the sarcasm of her words burns into his hearing. "Are you always this rude, murderer?"

"To those who try to take my life? Yes, murderer."

Scowling at the retort, she reminds him "I make money off of my kills; I do not do it just for fun."

An unpleasant look across his face as well, Gar's tone is just as acidic. "Violence for profit is a Western ideal, not an honorable path on the other side of the ocean."

"There is no honor in taking a live for revenge, killer of a hundred men." The steam coming to a head, she lifts it off the stove, moving it to two porcelain cups.

"If your actions in that hallway were the mark of a dishonest man or woman, I'll take that as a compliment." Taking the cup of tea presented before him, he smells the liquid for something… elusive.

With a scoff of disapproval, Daiyu curses his attitude. "Do you believe I've poisoned the same pot from which we both drink?"

Looking into her eyes, Gar informs the angry assassin "I'm trying to pick out the tea leaves from the lemon. Poisoning me isn't your style."

…

"So, why are you here? Are you here to start trouble or just to freeload?" Folding her arms across her chest, she demands an answer immediately.

Sipping the tea, Gar asks "Your father, Mao, does he know you visit his office when he's not home?"  
>The steam exiting Daiyu's ears easily matches the teapot just a few moments ago. "Is that what you do, Watchman? Study my past just so you can…?"<p>

"It's not a secret, not to everyone at least. And," taking a long sip of his drink "that picture over by the television gave it away."

Looking towards the phone in question, Daiyu's scowl fades a bit "Perhaps you are not as foolish as I would have guessed."

"I try." Putting aside the cup, Gar reaches into his coat pocket, pausing when he sees Daiyu's eyes meeting his. "Don't worry; it's not for a weapon." Retrieving a piece of paper with a photograph on it, he tosses it to the assassin. 'I'm looking for a man who's not quite a man. The sketch is rather shitty but maybe you'd recognize him."  
>"Is this a skeleton or something? He looks like an old European corpse."<p>

Nodding his head, Gar sheds some light on the confused Chinese woman. 'His name is 'Ripper", sometimes "F.H. Ripper". He was the one who murdered my girlfriend… or maybe you already know?"

Eyes snatching up towards Gar's green ones, she harshly advises Garfield "I warned you that I did not murder your woman. We were sent there to ambush you as you left the site but were never ordered to go in."

"Really."

Tossing the picture back to Watchman, Daiyu continues "I am not lying. Ask yourself, what do I have to gain from killing a young woman?"

Arm on his fist leaning on the table, Gar proposes "You could get to me through her?"

"And yet Ripper has admitted to you that he did the killing so I would have nothing to gain in helping him."

"You might have _known_ what he was up to?"

Shaking her head, she answers "Bulletface and Desade told Baptist and I that we were to wait for the Watchman to exit the apartment and NOT to go in. We would understand when we saw you."

No smile on that face. "And do you understand now?"

"What he took from you? What we were to finish once he had started?"

Nodding slightly, Gar beckons her on "That's right. You were there to kill a broken-hearted, mentally destroyed young man. You nearly took my life, along with the Baptist, and I haven't forgotten a moment of that fight."

Tensing up once again, Daiyu warns Gar of the threat in his words "If you intend to fight me again, you better…"

"Better put the past away, I say."

Standing up, Gar takes his cup to the sink, ignoring the assassin at his back. 'I've been gone from Jump City a _long_ time. I've been absent for every fight, every murder, and every gamble this city's taken with its future. Daiyu, I've been gone too long, and I think it's time we shake things up."

"_We_? What do you mean _we_?"

"I'm talking about people like us, you and me, Daiyu. People without a future, without any hope, and people who are willing to do something in return for little to no praise." The cup cleaned, Gar turns to the young woman "I need your help in getting things started."

"You're crazy, Watchman. First you're talking about revenge and now about the future of the city!" Standing up, she warns "I've listened to enough of your rambling. I'm tired and I want to go back to sleep!'

Stepping toe-to-toe with Daiyu, Gar leans down to stare eye-to-eye. "Do you know who really runs the show? Who controls what Desade, Bryson, and your father _really_ do?"

Growling, she smacks him in the face. "Don't you dare! How dare you accuse them of being mere dogs!"

"Mao works for Bryson, yes?"

Still nerved from having him staring so close, she begrudgingly answers his questions "Works _with_ him, not _for_ him."

"And yet the Triads are always on the front line. Why is that?"

"Because they are stronger warriors than…"

Glaring, the tone from Gar escalates into condescending "You're young but you're not blind, Daiyu. Bulletface has been using them as pawns while he saves his own men for the _real_ challenge. What do you think will happen to the Triads once Desade finally calls it quits?"

"Bryson and father will control Jump City as a partnership. They will have mutual control over all organized crime."

Stepping back, turning his back towards her, he laughs in irony "You little fool. To Bryson, the Chinatown Triads are nothing but free labor. A little favor here and there keeps the natives happy while Bryson works on his pet project."

"Pet project?" The confusion in her voice is the first non-threatening sound he's heard all night from her. 'What _pet project?_"

Snapping his head back at her, Gar warns "Start looking at Bryson's activities… look REAL hard at them. Why would a man who's nearing the end of a gang war continue to stockpile weapons after almost five years?"

~~~

In Raven's apartment, the clock on the wall reads "3:34" as Gar trudges through the living room. Boots off by the doorway, his coat on the coat rack, he makes a surprise move for the bedroom instead of the couch.  
>Inside, he sits gingerly on the bed currently being used by Raven. With the faint light of the streetlamps outside as a backdrop, he rolls onto the bed and lies down under the blanket.<p>

"Hmm… Gar?" tired, groggy, Raven's half-opened eyes question the sight next to her in the blue-colored bed.

No response, just the sound of a gentle breathing. The Watchman has had a long day… and tomorrow, business is about to go from good to booming."

A/N2: There, done, can I sleep now/ OH JAM! I like writing in-house fights because they can get a little chaotic. Why Gar always seem to "get people's attention" or intimidate is usually because when you're 6'4, big, and geniunely insane, it causes people to listen. Bulletface's "pet project" stretches back to Redux 1 with hints dropped along the way, you'll see. Next up, Bone's back with some hijackin' goin' down.

Trivia:  
>- Black and Mild cigars are referenced.<br>- Various quotes are borrowed or recycled.

I'm tired.


	6. Chapter 6

****A/N: I've hit the crucial 6th chapter. For almost all of my written work throughout life, if I can get past Chap 6, I can usually finish a story. This chapter continues with a little bit of humor, some blood bath, and finally getting to introduce a new rival for Watchman. It's an action chapter but has some BIG hints for what's to come.

**Redux 3: There Goes My Hero**

"To Be Where I Have Been"

Chapter 6:

December 17, 2010:

With a soft beeping sound, the alarm clock next to the bed sounds off, eliciting a moan of annoyance from the groggy-eyed empathy. Tapping the clock to OFF, she rises from the bed, eyes puffy and not in the mood for anything but breakfast and tea, she moves to the drawer to get dressed for the morning.

Wearing a black hoodie and sweats, Raven rubs at her arms to keep the drafty chill of the apartment away. The heater inside the apartment might be one but the cold, icy wind pounding at the walls gives a mean testament to Winter's bite. Yawning, she moves to the kitchen and fills the teapot with fresh water. Stove on, heat warming up, it'll only be a matter of time until the house fills out with the smell of warm, herbal tea.

"Wish he left a note or something. Good-for-nothing just shows up, gets in bed, and leaves without a good night…"

Throwing some toast into the machine, the pale goth moves about the kitchen, looking for the butter and for some good music on the radio.  
><em>"… on this chilly morning in the Bay Area, we're expecting clear skies but some strong wind gusts to come through the area into the evening hours. You're listening to 96.5, KOIT, your work-day radio station…"<em>

The kettle steaming up with a howl, the day can officially begin. With a pour of the pot, the sweet smell of tea leaves runs over the taste buds like heaven on this frigid morning in Jump City. Taking the cup over to the deck window, she pulls back the curtain, expecting to see a cold but pleasant-looking morning. Instead, she nearly spits out her mouthful of tea at the sight before her.

…

Garfield "Watchman" Logan, the "vagrant vigilante" of Jump City, is not only outside wearing only a pair of old jean shorts and the holoring, but is also _washing_ himself in a bucket of water. He seems oblivious to the cold, at least from the expression, but seems more worried about getting his washrag around the back of his neck.

"GAR!"  
>Ears snapping up, the former hero looks up to the window with raised eyebrows. "What?"<p>

Veins nearly popping from the skull, she damn near screams at him "GET THE HELL INSIDE! YOU'RE GOING TO CATCH HYPOTHERMIA!"

Waving it off, he tells her simply "Didn't want to run up your water bill."

Enough of holding restraint, not in a situation like this. Casting her energies forward, her hand  
>reaches through a black portal and pulls Gar into the swirling vortex.<br>Looking at the large man before her, she ignores his obvious state of undress to admonish his foolish behavior "Run up my water bill? You _think_ I care about that? You could catch a serious cold out there, Gar! You might be half-crazy but I'm not going to watch you do that to yourself."

Some odd feeling deep inside, almost a sort of bitterness at the protectiveness exhibited by Raven at his actions. "I'm not used to having a bathroom, Rae. I haven't been in a shower since the days before solitary in Arkham."

Anger fading, the revelation begins to dawn on her. He might have argued in the "old days" but… "You haven't been in a shower in _that_ long?"

"The staff at Arkham tried to get me in one, I asked for a bucket of water." Eyes fading a bit in memory, he informs her a bit distantly "You don't miss what you're not used to."

"I know you've gone through hardships, Gar, but that doesn't mean you have to keep putting yourself through them." In a rare act of personal contact, she palms one of his cheeks with her hand. "Don't forget, we're friends, Gar. If I can't share my home with you, I may as well become a hermit."

At the appointed hour, eleven o'clock in the morning that is, Gar approaches a line of cars stretching down Macie Street in North Jump. His black trench coat seems just a little bit heavier from the extra "gear" needed for this job. This isn't something that might be considered "heroic" but if the ends truly do justify the means…?

"Hey, yo!" One of Bone's goons, no doubt, hollers to Gar as he approaches the group of assembled thugs. "This ain't yo spot, boy. Why don't you get on out of here before…"

A voice from the deck shuts that threat down real fast. "The FUCK he is! Yo, _Watchman_, nice of you to be on time."

Hands in his pockets, Gar waits for Bone to meet him on the sidewalk to ask "Everything ready?"

"Yeah, we got some eyes on the truck and any escorts. They got their orders, they'll block the road while we hit them together. I just hope you got the right truck, I don't wanna be around when the cops asks why we hit the shit out of a goddamn Huggies truck."

"We might need those Huggies if shit hits the floor."

A smile on his lips, clenching between a freshly-lit cigarette, Bone jokes with the vigilante "I hear that. You ridin' with me or should I let you take to the sky?"

Eying the rest of the crew, Gar suggests "Best to keep quiet on this job. The less people know, the better off we'll all be when he rob a diaper truck."

"Alright, alright, I can do that." Turning to his boys, Bone asks "Everyone got their PSPs and Nintendos?" The group of men open their jackets or cases, revealing several assault rifles and assorted other weapons. "What about you, Watchman, you armed?"  
>Revealing his own firearm, Gar replies "Plenty of extra bullets and itching to put it back into practice." Offering a cigarette, Gar reluctantly turns the offer down from Bone. "Don't like the taste." Offering a cigar of his own, Gar asks "But I'll trade you."<p>

In the back of an SUV, the line of six cars drive down North Jump avenues towards a spot placed on the GPS. No music this time, only the sound of the road and the last-minute checks on firearms.

"Plan goes like this: We got two cars already at the spot, they'll be blocking the road. Following the truck are two more cars, they'll be blocking the escape. We'll hit them from the front with three extra cars, the other three to their rear."

"That's a _lot_ of personnel." Why so many soldiers if it's only a simple robbery?

"You ain't been around the Bay in a long time, Watchman, you need a lesson in crime in the 2010s. The North Jump Hoods aren't as large as the Jump City crews. Shit, we're not even as big as the Desades and they're clinging to life by the fingernails."  
>"They'll hold. Drugs will always be in demand."<p>

Nodding, Bone offers 'That's true, it's just a shame the Desades are the ones sitting on all that produce. If you put it in the right hands, proper business could be conducted."

No slipping that one unnoticed. "You mean if they were in the Hoods hands that is?"

A wider smile on the aging face of Bone, he admits to the vigilante "I'm only looking out for what's _best_ for the business, that's all."

"_Of course_…"

Parked around the corner from the ambush position, the Hoods have scattered out across the one-way intersection in preparation. Gar and Bone sit inside the SUV, the gang leader sitting in the driver's seat with his hand holding an open cell phone.

"How much further do you gotta go?"

"_Another five blocks or so."_

"Do you see anyone following the truck? Do you see escorts?"

"_I saw some cars following but they're holding back a few cars behind. We should be able to separate them."_

Looking to Gar, Bone warns the younger crimefighter "Looks like this shipment's got some armed escort. I hope you're ready for this."

"Is the Xenothium worth that much?"

A frown on his face, Bone retorts "To some it's worth a whole lot more than others. They've got at least five pounds of weapons-grade Xenothium in that armored car, that shit's gonna attract people like moths to a flame."

"Snatch and grab then."

Coming down the street, the sight of an armoed van comes into view and it heads down towards the ambush. Looking like the type of vehicle used to transport money, the gray and white scheme seems off in comparison to a normal chemical transportation carrier.  
>Pointing, Bone announces "We have the target in sight. Get ready to move in. Don't get fancy, just aim and intimidate."<p>

Removing his shotgun, Gar checks the safety and steels his courage. This won't be his first armed robbery but stealing weapons-grade material is major jail time if caught.

"My boys are gonna set up a perimeter, circle the wagon while we snatch the goods. I hope you got a driver's license."

"Nope."

Taking a moment to look at his partner with contempt, Bone almost insults Gar "You had the key to the city as a damn Teen Titan and you ain't got so much as a driver's license?"

"Never learned how to drive."

"Fuck, man. Shit, I'm drivin' them. Once the load's checked, we'll subdue the guards, have them removed from the area, and we'll be getting' this to our lockup by dinner."

"_Thirty seconds."_

AK-47 in hand, Bone nods to Gar "I hope you're ready."

Black shotgun in hand, Gar nods back "I better be."

With a loud screech, two vehicles in front of the street intersection come to life, crashing into each other to block off the one-way escape. From the end of the street, two more cars follow suit, blocking the escape route of the transport truck. Eight carloads of men can storming out into the area, guns ready for attacking and others ready for the convoy escorts.

Gar and Bone move in behind some other thugs, another group already stands by the truck with a satchel charge and some loud threats to "get out of the fucking truck."

Gunfire erupts from down the street as Hoods square off against men in black suits and sub-machine guns.  
><em>"Bulletface troops are here. Bone, the escorts were Bulletface soldiers!"<em>

"Hold them off, the driver's about to get out." Off the phone, Bone shouts to some other men "Get that fucking gate open. We need to make sure this is the right shit!"

Doors open, Gar and some others rush the drivers towards a waiting car for evacuation. No sense in killing the employees, this will already be a large-enough felony.  
>From the front, new gunfire erupts as more Bulletface troops arrive.<p>

"I thought you said Bulletface didn't have forces in North Jump!" a Hood shouts as he moves in to help his comrades.

"This feels like a setup." The nagging feeling in Gar's mind won't go away, even as he covers the back of the open truck. He'll be needing to defend the vehicle soon as the Hoods down the street begin to fall back from the Bulletface onslaught.

Suddenly the whistle of what sounds like incoming rockets is heard. Looking towards the front of the truck, the two blocking Hood cars are destroyed in a great, green fireball. Several of the Hoods are burned, screaming in agony from their grave wounds.  
>"What the fuck was that?"<p>

"_Did Bulletface's guys just…"_

"Everyone calm the fuck down! Yo, Watchman, go up there and get a look!"

There's no need for Gar to run, the man behind the destruction steps into view. Standing about Gar's height, far more muscular, and certainly more hot-tempered, the green-flaming villain known as Atomic Skull makes his arrival. In his hands glow green fists of fire, ready to burn some more Hoods without delay. To Gar, however, it is the round emblem of the All Seeing Eye above Skull's logo that gives his allegiance away.  
>"Bone, get this truck out of here. This guy's mine." Taking off his coat, he throws it into the back of the truck and cracks his knuckles.<br>"Let's not make this too hard, ok? I'm only after the Xenothium."

Ignoring the flaming skull's words, Gar asks of the villain "Is Dr. Light doing this to spite the Bulletface Gang or us?"

Standing tall and only a half dozen feet away, Atomic Skull answers bluntly "Anyone who gets in the way of the Illuminati get flattened the same, Bulletface of Hood alike. This is your last chance, little man, get out of the way."

Gnashing his teeth, Gar braces his body, yelling with malice "I'm no little man, I'm an ANIMAL."

Jumping ahead, Atomic Skull doesn't resist as Gar pummels the face and chest area of the villain, taking shot after shot with seemingly no counterpunch in sight. A knee to the stomach, an elbow to the face, and a haymaker across the jaw, all of it connecting but none of it with any retaliation.

"You might be an animal," Skull warns, catching one of Gar's fists in mid-throw 'but you'll need more practice if that's how you throw a punch." Using his foot, Skull kicks Gar a good disntace back, nearly bouncing off the truck and onto the concrete. "I wouldn't get up if I were you."

Spitting, Gar gets back to his feet. Wiping some spit off his lips, the Watchman retorts "Glad I'm not you then."

With another charge, Gar prepares for another haymaker, watching as Atomic Skull braces for the punch. At the last moment, however, Gar changes forms into a Bighorn sheep, crashing his giant horns into the stomach area of the metahuman's body. The impact elicits a groan of pain from the firehead, earning him another ram, no pun, into the stomach with the horns.

…

Bouncing back, the changeling spreads out into a Silverback gorilla, leaping forward and tackling Skull to the ground.

"Guess you're really an animal after all." Elbowing the gorilla in the head, the animal quickly rolls off, holding it's head. "But you still leave yourself open." Cracking his shoulders, Skull informs the young fighter "I was in Metabrawl, I worked through the Octagon, and I survived Darkseid destroying our ship deep in space. If you're going to fight me, bring your best shot."

…

In human form, Gar stares down Atomic Skull, searching for some creature in his mind, past, present… fiction… fantasy… some manner of brute who could take down this polite yet brutal metahuman.

"Well, do you give up?"

People might laugh but this form's been saved for a rainy day for too long. "Wait til you get a good look at me."

"Really? You got something up your sleeve?"

"Just watch!" He wants to see the best, so be it! Focusing his mind on an old card game, he summons up the image in his mind. 5 foot tall, 260+ pounds… and FOUR powerful arms. With a bit of a yell, Gar's body shifts from human into a Machamp, a Pokemon pulled from years of nerd experience in his mind.

"Wow, you really got something there, don't you?"

Roaring just a bit, the Machamp charges forward, hands balled and ready.

Up the street however, a new SUV arrives and not one belonging to the Hoods. Out of the car appear four men of matching height, weight, and appearance. All four wear gray-colored suits and each holds onto an M-16 or AK-47. The Hoods attempt to shoot at this four but the bullets seem to either bounce off them or do no damage at all, despite hitting soft areas like the face and hands. The only reaction is a blank expression and a turn of the head towards the offending gangsters.

The grappling match between the Machamp-shaped Gar and Atomic Skull is interrupted by the sound of screaming and heavy gunfire from the rear.

"Reinforcements?" Skull wonders, looking into the distance.

Ignoring the brute, Gar too looks to the distance. "Whoever they are, they're coming our way."" Looking to the Atomic Skull, Gar tells him honest "If Bulletface sent more men, shouldn't we keep them from the Xenothium? We can fight over the rock later."

"Won't do anyone good if Bulletface gets it back." Fist turning to flames, he adds on "We'll meet again."

A bit surprised at the villain's lack of anger at ending the fight so abruptly, Gar can only agree "Hopefully without all the commotion."

The Hoods have pulled back to the truck now, giving enough time for Bone to pull out with the truck. Atomic Skull and Watchman, however, stay behind and see the four carbon copies approaching.

To Atomic Skull, the approach of the Bulletface troops is just another invite to a fight.

In Gar's eyes, the sight and movement of the four men as they pursue the remaining Hoods brings back memories of a different time. Even as he avoids incoming fire, the way in which they move and attack almost screams familiar. It almost feels as if there should be a whole lot more… enough for five years worth of Bulletface weapons to equip? Scary enough that each of the four looks exactly the same, but they look like someone Gar once _met_.

That doesn't stop Atomic Skull and Watchman from leaping forward, covering the retreating Hoods as they start to beat into the four robot-like hitmen. Their hard bodies and… metallic limbs ripping out of the sockets gives further credence to the potential of robotic attackers.

"I figured they were androids… but they helped Bulletface?"

Atomic Skull beats the last droid into submission, punching a fire-bound fist through the machine's skull "I didn't know Bulletface had android technology. Light said he was just an arms dealer."

~~~

After the full retreat and hours have passed, Gar stands on the roof of Raven's apartment building to place a few calls. While Bone expresses his anger at having lost several of his crew, the fact that five pounds of Xenothium are now available for pickup is enough to quiet Gar's growing mental storm.

"Jake? You awake?"

"_Yeah I'm awake. What's wrong, Gar?  
><em>"I need a few favors from you. Nothing big."

A scoff on the other side of the phone doesn't sound too promising "I'm not helping you take out a whole cartel singlehanded and I won't hook you and Raven up cheaply."

Clenched fists digging tightly into the skin, Gar holds his temper from his voice. "Do you know someone who deals with jewelry and do you know someone who can get me a table for two at a restaurant for Christmas Eve?"

No more sarcasm, only the sound of laughter on the phone. _"Gar, are you gonna propose on Christmas? You aren't exactly the marrying type."_

"One's for business, the other's personal. Can you help me or not?"

"_Heheh, yeah I can help. There's a guy in North Jump I know, a low-level jeweler in training that's looking for some experience. I'll hook you up. Give me a few days on the dinner deal, that's gonna take some finesse."_

"I appreciate this." The words almost sound forced but business IS business.

"_I've always wanted a nice, big bottle of American Honey under my Christmas Tree."_

Growling, this couldn't be easy, could it? Gar relents "Fine, Santa will shove his fat ass down into that one-room mess of your's and get you something nice."

~~~

A/N2: Alright, that roadblock's out of the way. Atomic Skull's been one of my favorites for years. (If I wrote that Amazon Jungle arc like I wanted to, Cheetah and Atomic Skull were going to be Gar's escorts, that's a different story though.) The Xenothium is in Gar's hands but the Bulletface Gang has a secret weapon up their sleeve.  
>Another note on Atomic Skull. In the cartoon, he's actually quite likeable. I figured not all Illuminati or Rouge's group would be evil, some just need money or esteem. If anything, Gar and Skull (as two hard-hitting individuals) might actually enjoy a rivalry of sorts.<p>

Rhetorical:  
>Gar's leadin' a pretty entertaining life, isn't he?<p> 


	7. Chapter 7

A/N: Ok, for this chapter, it evolved into a piece about the many sides of Gar. I read once that when your characters begin to take a life of their own, when they surprise even the writer, they move from beyond paper into a real, breathing figure that sticks with you. I'm not saying Gar's this wonderful masterpiece of a literary figure but the more I write his character, there's almost a sense that's he's hiding much more from us than even I realize. When the writer wants to know more about the character, I hope that makes the reader want to know that much more.

**Redux 3: There Goes My Hero**

"To Be Where I Have Been"

Chapter 7:

December 20, 2010:

The storefronts of downtown North Jump might not be as classy or as _polite_ as Jump City's but for someone living on the cheap, it may as well be heaven. Nevermind the usual signs for liquor, tobacco, or whores, the only sign the Watchman looks for is the one with the silver ring on it. It's bad enough the weather's still blustery and cold, it's even worse that the order should cost _this much_. Pushing the glass down open, the warm rush of air greets Gar like an embrace from a long-lost friend. The cold can be enjoyable at times but not on an everyday basis.

"Hello there!" a jovial voice calls out from the back of the store. The older man's glasses rest at the edge of the nose, betraying a sense of age on his otherwise pleasant face. "Come in, step out of that miserable cold."

Stepping up to the counter, Gar unbuttons his coat to take in the heat.

"Are you here for something in particular or…?"

At the counter, Gar's tall stature looms over the man like Stonehenge to a tourist. "I put in an order the other day. Is it ready yet?"

Might be a good idea not to play with this one, the iron stare on his face chills the body as badly the outside air. "Ah yes, we have it ready for you."

Disappearing into the back, it takes a few moments before he returns with a display for viewing.  
>"It's beautiful."<p>

Smile returning to his face, the man nearly gushes over the piece "It was a fan job, very fun indeed. The thing is, I've never had the opportunity to use this element for a display piece."

Observing the silver band and large, ruby red stone, Gar speculates on its design. "Pure silver or sterling?"

"Pure, we wouldn't want such an _expensive_ piece of stone on an inferior piece of metal." Adjusting his glasses, the old man inquires "Is this for your girlfriend or…?"

Taking the ring, the weight catches his attention. "It's for a woman with an _electric_ personality. This rock's heavy."

"Sixteen ounces, as per your specifications. The challenge was cutting it into the band." Pointing at the ring itself, he points out "As for the engraving, that was easy enough. That _is_ correct, yes?"

"MMX: LW. Yes, that's what I wanted." No sense using numbers when Roman numerals sounds official. "This ring is a fine piece. I _hope_ you didn't shave too much off for the stone."

"Oh, not much at all. Just a few pieces under four pounds remain. To be frank, I'd rather not know how you came into possession of such a stone."

Putting the ring back, the tone in Gar's voice gives some warning to the craftsman. "The less you know, the happier you'll be at bedtime. Now, as to the price…?"

"I hit the estimate on the head, no cost runovers."

"Good, music to my ears." As he finishes however, the sight of something in silver catches his attention. In a case on the wall behind the shopkeeper is a large, silver symbol of Egyptian flair. "What's that piece?"

Turning, the keep looks at the silver pendant. "Oh, that's one of my latest acquisitions. It's a pure silver, Egyptian "Ankh" pendant. It's supposed to represent good health and life."

"You don't say."

"Funny thing about this necklace was it came to me just a few days ago. A woman came into the shop and asked if she could do me a favor. Strange thing is, she wanted me to give this away to the first person who'd ask about it."

"No kidding?"

"She might have been one of those new age hippies that are running about the Bay Area still. But, a deal's a deal I guess. Would you like to have it? She said to give it to the first person who asked about it."

"Then I guess today's my lucky day." She moves in mysterious ways, doesn't she?

~~~

Rather than simply flying over to Jump City, Gar arranges to carpool with Jake on the way to his next "appointment". The ride in the Monte Carlo isn't unpleasant but there's been happier times between the two of them.

"So, how's the crusade going? You find a way to topple the cartels by Christmas?"

Head on his hand, propped up by his elbow next to the window, a distracted-looking Gar responds simply "Working on it."

"Haven't heard your name yet on the news, you must be saving your big return for something special. Did you let your old friends know you're back in town?"

Still staring towards the car ahead of them, Gar again answers simply "Might call Rob tonight."

"He's Nightwing now."

"He's Robin to me. When he stops calling me "Beast Boy" in his mind, I'll call him Nightwing to his face."

Glancing over, taking the lighter from the console to spark up a smoke, the P.I. inquires "I'm hearing some hostility towards your old boss. Wouldn't blame you, Raven told me she was the only one who visited you in prison."

Leaning up from the window, the green-skinned vigilante asks of the older man "Ever wonder just how alone you really are in this world? One minute you have all the friends you'd ever need, the next you're as lonely as a whale in the middle of the ocean?"

Breathing out the tobacco, Jake glances a second at Gar then turns back to the road. "Everyone gets that feeling around the holidays. From what I've seen, you're done a lot more good as Watchman than as Beast Boy."

"Maybe." Rolling down the window, Gar ignores a protest from Jake at the sudden chill. "Sometimes I just wish I could fly away form here, sleep in some cabin far up in the Rockies."

"It feels like the motherfuckin' Rockies in here. Roll up that goddamn window!"

The car pulls up to the warehouse where Rouge's group is headquartered though Watchman doesn't leave the car just yet.

"You never told me just why exactly you've hooked up with these people."

Looking towards the warehouse, Gar suggests "Why do most people throw morals out at the first sign of opportunity?"

"You don't strike me as the greedy type."

"Question told me once to think like an animal when it I started out on my own. If you train them right, whenever you ring the bell, the dog will come for meat."

Nodding at the example, Jake responds "Pavlov's bell, right? What's that got to do with Madame Rouge?"

Turning to Jake, Gar opens the door and replies "Give them enough meat, they'll start doing what I need them to do instead of what they _want_ to do."  
>"People aren't animals, Gar, they're more evolved than <em>that<em>."

Before he closes the door, Watchman's retort is cold and somewhat lifeless "No, they just learned how to walk on two legs."

~~~

Walking past the receptionist at the warehouse, Gar steps into the midst of Madame Rouge's band of thugs and metahumans. Not quite as many this time, Captain Boomerang and Firefly seem to absent, and Gar almost laments at not seeing T&P in her area as he walks by. Still, it seems that the criminal known as "Baby Doc" is here, looking like a giant rubber ball with a sick-looking grin on his face. Best to avoid that one, there's business to be conducted.

Without a knock on the door, Gar steps into Rouge's office, not even bothering to say "hello".  
>"It is very rude not to knock, Watchman."<p>

That European accent might sound pleasant but there's no hiding that look of irritation in the way her eye twitched. "So is not sending me a Christmas card. Five days until the holiday and no Hallmark card in my mailbox…"

Her black lips part into a wry grin at the comment "Touche', Watchman. I'm sure you're not here to catch up on old times, again, so what is it you want now?"

His face cutting into a confused expression, incredulously the vagrant asks "I asked for you to help me find Gizmo and Mammoth. I'd like to see them."

"Patience, they will be in your possession soon. We've only been able to find one so far but…"

"ONE? Why didn't you tell me you found one of them?" Taking off his sunglasses, Gar steps dangerously close to that office desk "Have you been withholding information from me, _Rouge_? If you have…" Snapping the lighter to life, Gar observes the subtle glance towards the light then back to his own green eyes "… then you and I will have some _issues_. I've been patient with regards to our past, _real_ patient."

Her own fingers turning into claws, the threat becomes mutual between the two old enemies. "And I have also resisted the urge to tear your body apart, piece by piece. Do not mistake _my_ generosity for weakness."

…

The sound of sparks rises throughout the room, making the two old adversaries back away from each other for the time being. Jumping out of the computer screen, Livewire stands with her hand on her hip, eyeballing her boss and client. "And they say I'm the sparkplug around here. Leave you two alone in here for a minute and you're ready to start World War Three."  
>Stepping back to face Livewire, Gar offers a rare, tiny smile on his part. "Hear anything that was said?"<p>

"Sure did, big and green. I picked up Gizmo last night after a "stimulating" conversation on the information superhighway."  
>Gar can see the roll in the eyes from the "conversation" part of her night. "Let me guess, he was probably expecting a woman with clear blue eyes and a red-hot…?"<p>

"Short-sized little pervert thought he was gonna pull a fast one on me. Don't you worry your handsome-little head off, Watchman, I got him somewhere the Illuminati won't find him."

"Thank you. By the way, not all men are pigs. Some of us still care."

Rouge sarcastically laughs at that statement. "A few moments ago you were about to torch me. Some gentlemen, Garfield."  
>"That was business. Since Mammoth's no doubt in hiding, I'll pay up for finding Gizmo for me." Reaching into his pocket, he notices that both Livewire and Rouge have braced themselves for some reason. "What?"<p>

"Why are ya reachin' in your pocket if you're gonna pay in Xenothium?"

Moaning a bit to himself, lamenting the lack of faith in people anymore, Gar none-the-less produces a small, black box. "And no, it's _not_ a grenade."

Having the box tossed to her, Livewire catches the soft-cushioned box and opens it slowly. Inside, however, her expression goes from suspicion to ecstasy.

"A _ring_? Well, I take it back, maybe you are a gentleman."

Gar has no time to react to Rouge's comment, he's too busy being crushed in a tight hug from the electric-blue supervillain. "Hey, Rouge, I find a stray, can I keep him?"

"Glad you like it. Figured just handing over a hunk of rock would be a bit insulting."

Letting go, she still gushes over the ring. "A polished stone from a hunk of man, how lucky can this gal be?"

"So you like it?"

Smile still stretched across her face, she nods happily "I LOVE it."

His face turning away from the faint smile, Gar asks "Then would you consider moving Gizmo somewhere for me? I have a special place all ready just for him."

"Of course. You know, comin' to Jump was the best thing that's happened in a long time. No Justice twerps, no crummy Daily Planet, and hot damn are the heroes out here so much better!"

"Rouge, can you have T&P come too? This could be a long night."  
>"That shouldn't be a problem."<p>

As Gar nods in appreciation, he turns to make for the door. He's cut off by Rouge calling his name. "I had forgotten about this old thing." Pulling open a drawer, she produces a black folder with paperwork inside. "It's dated a few years now but you should know Mumbo Jumbo died protecting these files."  
>Ears perking up at the former villain's name, Gar inquires "The Baptist killed Mumbo over a black folder?"<p>

Stretching her arm across the room, she hands the dossier to the green vigilante. "Someone paid the Baptist to kill Mumbo so this document wouldn't fall into the wrong hands. You are moving away from the strictly "heroic" path, you should be able to make the most use of it's contents."

Flipping through the pages until the end, Gar places his shades on his nose, nodding to the two women. "Thanks for the intel."

~~~

Alone in Raven's apartment, Gar sits at the dining room table, reading through the faded papers with intensity in his eyes. Each line he passes over sends a wave of irritation and frustration throughout his body, each paragraph tugging at his hands to ball up the paper to shred it to bits. Revelations are a tough thing to swallow, even for those who are used to nasty truths, but to see such abuse of power and corruption so close to home…  
>"As I thought, this whole scheme's been in effect since before the economy crashed…"<p>

The names of corporations, individuals, charities, government agencies, each reads like a terrible series of strands in the spider's web, all leading to one truth.

"Everything's connected." A hard drink from a Jameson bottle, a harder truth to swallow, Gar admits the sad reality to himself. "No wonder the Titans continued to operate after the Brotherhood went down… Slade's been missing since Trigon, the HIVE collapsed, Brother Blood and the Brain are gone or dead…"

Clutching at his head, the nerves in his brain fire as they try to piece together a bitter reality that cannot be sweetened so easily. "Without an enemy there's no need for soldiers. Without evil, there's no good. Can he _really_ be so egotistical as to _allowed_ this? What was the purpose of the Titans all along?"

Behind him, the door opens up, the purple-haired woman entering with another series of groceries. Though normally one to help with the bags, Gar can only look her way.

"Hey, when did you get in? I thought you said you'd be out all day?"

Tapping on the papers, Gar tells her solemnly "When you're done putting those away, there's something I want you to take a look at."

~~~

Ten o'clock, the appointed time and place, Gar pulls back the metal door on the abandoned foundry and steps inside the darkness. The benefit to these abandoned buildings is that if you happened to be held prisoner inside, no one will ever hear you scream. Stepping towards the middle of the building where the single light above forms a spotlight, Gar can see the two criminal femme fatales standing either side of the spotlight. While he might normally enjoy seeing their presence, it's the man in the middle that has his attention now.

Stepping up to the figure, the man's wrists in chains, body held up towards the sky, Gar smacks him hard across the face. "Wake up."

Eyes puffy and tired, they suddenly bolt alert at the green man before him. "Crudsucker, it's you! You crumsnorting…"

A hard backhand across the other cheek, a little discipline is in order. "Be quiet, _child_.

A soft sound of buzzing machinery, T&P steps up to Gar and Gizmo "Should I give him _a poke_ to hush him up?"

"Why play with a tiny tat gun when you can _really_ jolt someone with 10,000 volts of pure-grade lightning?"

Resisting a smile at the two women's suggestive offers, Gar turns to both and offers a proposal of his own "How about you start off first, Livewire? The others won't be here until eleven and I'd like to get something worked on before they arrive."

"Hey, that's not fair." T&P seems a bit dejected at the thought of the cobalt-blue meta getting ahead of her fun.

"I need you to do some work on my back." Eyes softening a bit, Gar asks her politely "Two hundred dollars up front. I'd like my first tattoo to be memorable."

Buzzing up the gun, T&P looks to Livewire with a wide grin "Nevernmind, Sparky, you can have the child, I'll take the real man."

It doesn't need to be an offensive attack but the sight of a straight-up bit of electric running up Livewire's middle finger is enough to get the point across.

~~~

When the clock finally reaches eleven, the two men that were called finally make their entrance. The tattoo has wrapped up just a few moments prior while Gizmo looks like he's seen better days. Still, to the two men stepping inside, the sight of two of Rouge's allies, a tied-up Gizmo, and a man with his back to them is enough to warrant a birdarang in hand and a second cannon on aim.  
>"Whoa, whoa… Calm the hell down!" T&amp;P shouts while raising her gun skyward.<p>

"Typical goodies twoshoes, always trying to look tough with their little toys."

Cyborg isn't smiling however. "Trust me, there ain't no fun with this loud toy."  
>"Why did you call us here? And why is Gizmo chained up like?"<p>

Finally turning about, much to the surprise of Nightwing and Cyborg, the Watchman declares "Because I'm in the Christmas spirit… Ho… ho… ho."

~~~

A/N2: See what I meant by "many sides" of Gar? He can be business-like, he can be generous, he can be caring... and at the other end, the boy can be downright vicious (if not nihilistic at this point). It's not my intention to make him so heartless at times but I get this feeling that while he might not give a damn about those who've wronged in him life, he still cares for and damn near loves those who stick with him (especially people like Raven, Question, and Jake). However, I'm also wondering just how far into the gray (if not the black) he's going to venture into. Just how many women does he have around him on a daily basis now?

Trivia:  
>- The silver Ankh is a reference to everyone's favorite goth-themed vision of Death.<br>- Mumbo Jumbo ended up having a bigger effect on this story than most of my OCs  
>- The "Ho ho ho" bit was taken from a sarcastic line I saw in Disney's "Atlantis" film.<p>

Rhetorical:  
>Gar's had Livewire, T&amp;P, Rouge, Raven, even Daiyu around him as of late... just <em>how much<em> do you think Rose has missed him?


	8. Chapter 8

A/N: As you've probably observed, this story's getting into that nice, dark, soul-searching angst that Watchman (Draft One) didn't have IMO. I've always wanted to go into the psychology of superheroes/villains, the effect of their careers and their environment. The Watchman here might surprise you in several ways, ranging from the sadistic to the vulnerable aspects of his character, even to the point I didn't believe what was coming out of his mouth was just "plot". There's two more chapters to "To Be Where I Have Been", there's three more major arcs still to come.

**Redux 3: There Goes My Hero**

"To Be Where I Have Been"

Chapter 8:

December 20, 2010:

"Watchman? When did you get back?"

As stunned as Nightwing might be feeling, Cyborg's jaw nearly touches the floor "Dude, you've changed, bro!"

"In many respects…" Gar shares none of the shock or surprise that his two former teammates feel but running instead through his body is the slightest tinge of annoyance, if not the budding of anger. "I see you've changed your look, Robin."

"_Nightwing_,, Garfield. We've both moved on from our old roles, keep that in mind." Shock worn off, Nightwing moves towards the green vigilante. "I take it _this_ is your work?"

Looking behind to Gizmo, Gar's honesty answers for him "Livewire did the hard work for me, I just paid the bill."

"And what would that payment involve?"

Happily, Livewire ignores the growing scowl on Nightwing's face to show off her brand new ring. "It involves a _whole_ _lot of spark_ and a _whole lot of care_. You Titans could learn a thing or two from this man; he knows how to talk to people instead of just throwing fists first."

Stepping in for Nightwing, Cyborg ends this fight before it begins. "Fancy looking ring you got there, Livewire. That stone wouldn't be Xenothium, would it?"

"One _full_ pound of it, tin man, and it's _all_ mine." Striking a pose, Livewire pushes her luck forward even more "It's not a bad reward for grabbin' that perverted little shit."

"So, what do you planning to do to him?" Referring to Gizmo, Nightwing looks to Gar with some deep suspicion in his eyes.

"The girls had their fun with him already. Starfire and Argent were closer to the two of you than they were with me." One last cigar in his pocket, he slides it onto his lips. "Don't kill him; I want to talk to him too. Use any tools you'd like, this place is soundproof and camera-free."

"I _won't_ torture him for information, Watchman." He might be Nightwing now but that moral code still remains from the Robin-side.

"If you break the law and there's no police around to see it, is it still a felony?" Sparking the tobacco to life, Watchman takes a long drag and exhales sharply. "Take your time, I have all night."

Sitting at the back door of the old foundry, Gar sits on a cinderblock while T&P and Livewire lean on the stone wall. The air might be chilly but if the voices shouting are any indication, the tempers are flaring hot as the summer inside.

"Nightwing's a tight ass, isn't he?"

"T&P, you have no idea. I wouldn't doubt it if he thinks of himself as Atlas." Both female's eyes look lost, the ancient name blank in their minds. Sighing, Gar informs the pair "The Greek Titan who held the weight of the world on his shoulders. Rob thinks this whole city depends on him so he can be a royal prick at times when it comes to challenging his view on morality."

Cat's grin on the face, Livewire slides a hand onto Gar's shoulder. "But _you_ don't mind bending the rules, do ya?"

"An old friend told me once that criminals work best when you bend them instead of breaking them." Ignoring the buzzing feeling, Gar puts his rough hand on Livewire's "And sometimes talk gets you farther than fists."

"How's the back feel?" Not wanting Livewire to get all the attention, T&P casts a dirty look at the vagrant.

"Sore but well worth it." Taking his hand away from Livewire, he pats at it gently. "Thanks again for doing it, it means a lot to me."

"You're welcome. Besides, what did the design mean?"

"The K and J written in a cross? They were two people I cared for that were taken from me. Taken by the man I've been searching for since 2007."  
>"Huh. Sorry but I never pictured you as the sentimental type." There's more than meets the eye with this one.<p>

Standing up to crack his back, Gar stretches with his arms. "Maybe a few years ago I might have but now I'm just trying to keep a memory alive." Ears listening inside before checking his watch, it looks like things have gotten quiet. "Robin should be done any moment now."

"I bet the Boy Wonder didn't even give the kid a black eye."

T&P grins wryly at that. "I bet he bloodied his nose."  
>First one in the door, Gar jumps in "I'll take some of that action."<p>

...

After an hour or so of abuse, Gizmo hangs bound in chains, his nose bloodied and face swelling. It's obvious that more than one fist has been put into his face, both metallic and flesh.

"Looks like we tie." Gar's dry announcement contrasts the two surprised villains although it doesn't keep them from getting close to the two Titans.

"Whoa, you really did a number on him. Who put the shiner on his right eye?"

Looking at T&P, Cyborg flexes a fist, a grimace on his face as he takes credit. "He told us that we should've thanked him. Women have always been trouble according to him."

A strong punch across the face, Nightwing growls in hate at the thought of Gizmo smiling from Starfire's death. "Coming from a sick-minded, heartless bastard like you, Gizmo, you should be happy all you've got in a bloody face."

Weakly though still with malice, Gizmo laughs despite blood oozing from a missing tooth or three. "Snotballs, you think this is going to make things _better_? They're dead and they're not…"

…

A tight clasp around his neck, Gar forces Gizmo's head upward to make eye contact. The force of the hand presses against the technophile's windpipe, leaving the victim gasping for oxygen. "Look at me, _worm_." Feeling the tension from the man in his grasp, Gar can only feel the adrenalin surging "You've had fun with the girls and the Titans, now it's time _we_ had a talk."  
>"Oh, what are<em> you<em> gonna do? Hit me again?"

Taking the nerd's retort for an invite, Gar does just that. Instead of a backhand, it's a hard gut-check into the abdominals. Wanting to spit out the fluids, Gizmo's head is still held up by Gar's crushing hand. "What's that? You want to breathe? So do those who're about to drown!"

As Gar snaps for T&P and her gun, Gizmo asks between ragged breaths "What… what do you want with me?"

Pulling the small criminal up to his face for a good look, Gar answers with the coldest tone Nightwing has ever heard "I want to hear you _scream_."

As T&P moves into position next to Gizmo, Gar takes a few steps back to sit on a chair. His coat removes and placed on the chair's back, Gar sits with a leg crossed and his hands in his lap.  
>"What are you about to do, Gar?" Nightwing's curiosity must have finally gotten the best of him.<br>Not turning at all to look, Gar tells his old comrades "Get some chairs. This _won't_ be a quick affair."

The buzzing noise of her tattoo gun sounds off, the performance is about to begin. "All ready, Watchman."

"Good. Gizmo, look at me." Waiting for the injured villain to comply, meeting his gaze in a few seconds. "We're going to discuss the Illuminati and your two friends Mammoth and See-More. If I feel you're being rude or untruthful, you won't like what you feel next. Be honest and clear with me, you will feel no additional pain. Do you understand?"

"Piss off!"

With a nod, T&P brings the gun to life and drives the pins straight into the middle of Gizmo's left "pinky" toe, right up into the bone. The sound of the machine is drowned out by an intense howl of agony, a sound coming from the very soul itself. "Are we _clear_ on the rules?"

"Yes! Goddamn it, yes!"

"Good. We'll begin with the basics. Where is Dr. Light's HQ? Where do you Illuminati operate out of?"

Grunting at the pain in his feet, Gizmo gnashes his teeth and braces for the next series of pain. "I can't tell you that." Sure enough, another sharp pain rushes into his pinky toe, this time from above the skin and downward at a sharp angle.  
>The bellow of pain has Nightwing wincing and Cyborg ready to tell Gar to stop. Still, they maintain their watch while Gar continues his questioning. "That's not fair to those assembled, Gizmo. We all know where the Titans are, anyone could find out where Madame Rouge works out of, but the <em>Illuminati<em> seem to think they're better than everyone. Do you think you're better than me?"

"… what?"

"Livewire, he looks a bit tired. Can you wake him up?"

A smile on her face at the Watchman's request, she digs her fist into Gizmo's lower back, jolting him awake with a fantastic shout of pain. "Nuthin' like a good bolt of adrenalin to keep your mind awake."

"_Of course_ you think you're better than me. You've been insulting the Titans since we first met you, _why_ would you change your mind just because of what's happening today?"

"He's Illuminati now, he don't care about anyone other than himself."  
>Hands folded like a villain plotting, Gar suggests with a sinister tone "Of course he cares about other people… Especially people who he happens to know his whole criminal life. People who are in <em>hiding<em> because of what they've done. How about it, Gizmo, want to rat out your old pals Mammoth and See-More?"  
>"Why… would I tell you…?"<p>

Cracking his knuckles, Gar answers simply "There's a difference between waking up in your bed in the morning and waking up in the afterlife. How about a poke to the ribs…?"

"ALRIGHT! I'll tell you… just… no more gun, please!"  
>A jackal's smile running across the green lips of the Watchman, he leans back in the chair some more and asks "And where can I find these individuals?"<br>"I give you Mammoth and See-More, right? I give you those two and you let me go?"  
>Tapping his foot, Watchman proposes "It'll help your predicament."<p>

"Nightwing…" Cyborg whispers while Gar's discussion continues. "Something's wrong with Gar."  
>"What gave <em>that<em> away?"  
>Fuck that sarcasm at this moment, this is serious. "He's <em>enjoying<em> this. Beast Boy never enjoyed interrogation, that was always your thing."

"Gotham must have changed him worse than we thought."  
>"…I don't know man… This seems worse than just Gotham… Do you think he's been like this since he left the Titans back in '07?"<p>

An hour of cat-and-mouse torture has uncovered only the last two HIVE members' hideout, an explanation on why Dr. Light targeted Starfire and Argent, and several solutions on how to make Windows Vista stop crashing all the time. Still, the Illuminati subject has been hard to pry from Gizmo's head. After using a knife to threaten Gizmo's eyesight, Cyborg finally jumps in to stop this.  
>"Gar, you're going too…"<br>Still without turning to face him, Watchman now folds the blade before Gizmo's eyes but proclaims "This is only the beginning, Cyborg. If you two are feeling sick, take a breather outside."

Standing up, Cyborg warns his long-time friend "That's enough, Gar. It's not going to help anyone if you _kill_ him!"

"And what makes you think I'll _kill_ him?" Turning away from Gizmo to face the pair of Titans, the Watchman asks them a serious question. "Do you think this is _fun_? Do you think I _enjoy_ this, Cyborg?" Walking over to stand before his old friend, this time eye-to-eye as opposed to the former far below, Gar asks once more "Do you think I'm _that_ cold?"

"You _did_ have Gizmo brought here in the first place, that much says a lot."

Eyes firmly fixed on Cy, Gar orders aloud "T&P!"

Against a hard stare from Cyborg, the sound of howling and screaming sounds off once again, the sharp sound of pain contrasting against two icy stares of old friends.  
>Now standing to jump into the conversation, Nightwing also demands of the vagrant "This is enough, Garfield. Starfire and Argent would <em>never<em> approve of this type of interrogation."

Composure finally giving way to anger, Gar's head snaps on a dime "DON'T TELL ME WHAT TO DO, TRAITOR!"

The two villains behind them turn away from Gizmo at the shout from the Watchman. The two Titans back up, preparing their weapons even as Gar stands unarmed before them. "Dude, what the hell's wrong with you? Who do you think you are calling us traitors?"

"Has it ever occurred to you, Cyborg, just _why_ the Titans are in the mess you're in?" The acid stare of the Watchman continues to bore into Nightwing's masked orbs. "Ever wondered why you never went after the Desades, the Bulletface Gang… or Void Enterprises?"  
>"What does that creep Void have to do with the Titans?" T&amp;P's words serve as the prime setup to Gar's next move.<br>"Be careful, Watchman." Nightwing's teeth probably couldn't grind anymore tighter without breaking but this is one argument "Beast Boy" will not shirk from.  
>"<em>YOU<em> be careful, Robin. Did you _really_ think I wouldn't find out? Tell me something, would you?"

Balling a fist, Nightwing's patience is at it's end "What?"

"Did Mumbo Jumbo really have to die just so people wouldn't discover just how _corrupt_ the Titans really are?"

If not for his quick reflexes, Gar might have a hard fist-imprint in his face. Still, the old Boy Wonder doesn't pursue, even as Gar grabs his shotgun from the trench coat.

"Still using firearms, _Watchman_?" Nightwing asks, ready to evade any incoming bullets aimed his way.

"Gar, man, put the gun down. We don't need to do this." Cyborg might be more diplomatic in this case but that sonic cannon of his is charged and ready to go.  
>To the Titans and Watchman's surprise, T&amp;P and Livewire stand behind Gar, ready to defend the vigilante.<p>

"Get out of the way, both of you!"

Nightwing's demand falls on deaf ears, the two villains have their weapons or powers ready to fire in the blink of an eye.

"Were you really that desperate to keep the Titans together, Rob? Was selling out to Void and those other corporate pigs worth risking all of our lives?" The anger on his face starts to pass, even as that same rage aimed at him remains. "Maybe it's the burden of being a team leader, you have to make the hard decisions where it counts."

"It's something I've come to live with, it's part of the hard choices of living in this city."

Eyes softening now, almost to a sad state. "Rob, all of this could have been prevented. I wouldn't have left the Titans, Jinx wouldn't have been shot, and Raven would still be in the Tower. Damn it, Robin, why couldn't you just let the past go and take Batman's help?"

"Are you saying I'm stuck in the past? I'm different, Gar, we've all grown up. We've kept the Illuminati from hurting any more civilians, Starfire and Argent's deaths have motivated us to keep this city safe again. I don't need Batman's help and I don't need you telling me to move on!"

…

Woefully, if not dejected entirely, Gar lowers the shotgun, followed by T&P and Livewire. The Titans lower their guard, the tension in the room still palpable but the anger fades like clouds after the storm. "We've all changed, haven't we?"  
>"I'm afraid so. We just can't be teenagers anymore if we're going to save this city."<p>

Cyborg cuts in to try and further diffuse the situation. "The city's in better hands, man. We can do this. If you can move on and come back to us, we can really take it to the bad guys. We can take out the Illuminati and…"

BOOM!

The sound of thunder inside the room fades but not without that stinging feeling in the ears. To the horror of those around the Watchman, the sight of Gizmo gagging and straining for breath is the harshest shock to the nerves of the night.

"Breathe, Gizmo… breathe…" Gar steps up to the dangerously injured Gizmo, his chest beginning to burn with the sickening smell of searing flesh.

"GAR! WHAT THE FUCK DID YOU DO?"

Ignoring Nightwing's words, Gar places a hand on Gizmo's cheek. With the deepest sense of loss, Gar tenderly tells the dying villain "Breathe… please, I know it hurts… but just breathe. In a few moments, you'll be where there's no more pain."

"Unbelievable… he actually shot Gizmo…" Cyborg can hardly hold in the knot in his stomach, having to turn away to hurl a little bit of his stomach up.

Livewire tries to get a look at the wound. "What did he shoot him with?"

"I took some CLR cleaning fluid, that's Concrete-Lime-Rust, and froze them into pellets." His face now a total expression of emotional drain, he places his forehead on Gizmo's. "It's corrosive, burning right into his bodily organs. His lungs, stomach, heart… all gotta feel like they're being eaten away."

If the sight of Gar's depression isn't scary enough, the veins on Nightwing's forehead are about to bust from the blood pressure. "So you _really_ killed those hundred men back in Gotham. You're willing to take a life just because you _want_ to?"

Turning to Nightwing, Gar's eyes drooping and weary, his tone is soft yet tired, the words come out from the soul and not from the heart "He was dead the moment you stepped in here, Robin. This whole event was filmed, right up there's a camera." Pointing to a small camcorder in the rafters, the calm words have to sooth that raging storm in Nightwing's mind "It's being digitally sent to a computer of mine. You always told me to get proof before a conviction."

"You sick bastard…"

Turning back to Gizmo, the life nearly drained from his body, Gar asks "Make amends with Batman, we might not have too long left in this life. Mammoth and See-More are next, then the war _really_ begins."

"I won't let you get away with this!"

"Cyborg, take him home, ok? It's time I send this body into the next world. We'll talk again some other time."

Cyborg can see the rage in Nightwing's body but the fact is he isn't _attacking_, that alone gives away the fear in Gar's setup. Still, the sad sorrow on Gar's face as he moves for a gas can speaks more volumes than Nightwing. This _really_ is killing him more than its killing Gizmo. "Ok. But, Gar, I ain't gonna lie, you need some serious help, mental help."  
>Tossing the gasoline onto Gizmo, Gar agrees "After New Year's, I'm taking everyone's advice and seeing a doctor. In the meantime, have a Merry Christmas. If I find Dr. Light, I'll call you."<p>

"This isn't over, Watchman…" Resisting Cyborg's pull on his shoulder, Nightwing would love nothing more than to beat some sense back into Beast Boy's mind.

"No, it's not. That's for another day though."

As with the night a few days prior, Gar enters Raven's room after 2 in the morning, takes off his boots, jeans, and shirt. Stepping into Raven's bedroom in shorts, he takes a sit on the empty side of the bed.

"Just getting in?" the tired grumble in the young woman's voice sounds so far away than Robin's moralistic screaming.  
>"I wish I could sleep for a thousand years."<br>"Try sleeping for a full eight hours before you sleep a millennium."

As she turns over in her sleep, Gar's restless mind still won't silence even as he slides into the soft cushions.  
>"If you insist on thinking so much, try the couch. I can feel tension in the air, Gar."<p>

To her surprise, felt through the sheets as slight jump in her body, Gar takes ahold of her right hand, intertwining the fingers with his own for support. "I think I need to be somewhere safe tonight."

Turning over to look at him, the questions in her own mind turn to silence as she sees his eyes. "_Why_ would this place be safe?"  
>"Because here I'm a man and not a wild animal."<p>

~~~

A/N2: I'd rather not elaborate further on Gar's psyche, it is something that needs a clincal review (I mean in a real review, not story). There's something scary, from an outsider's perspective (in all walks of life), in seeing someone you were really close with in a younger part of your life suddenly so radical and different. It's like your best friend, who was always polite and kind, joining a skin-head Nazi-loving meth-head biker gang. Cyborg's in disbelief, Nightwing's in rage, and the villains love it. And yet, I feel he's being the most honest with Raven even if he's not pulling out guns and knives.

Trivia:  
>- There's various quotes to other tv shows, anime, and DCAU here but I can't remember most.<br>- "I want to sleep for a thousand years" was a quote from Winston Churchill's weariness during World War II.

Rhetorical:  
>- How'd you like the CLR bullet? It's an idea I've had for nearly a year for this story, finally got to write the scene where it works.<p> 


	9. Chapter 9

A/N: This chapter has a lot of character in it because I'm saving the big action piece for the next chapter (which is the end of the "coming home" arc). I needed Gar to have some time away from torture in order for him to really feel what he's done. This isn't overtly angsty, it's how a man accustomed to this line of work should feel. In response to chap 08, Gar is a man in great conflict. We've all lied over things big and small... but, damn it, this chapter does have some fluff in it. Enjoy it, the last chap in this arc is gonna be a violent one.

**Redux 3: There Goes My Hero**

"To Be Where I Have Been"

Chapter 9:

December 23, 2010:

"Gar, you're an interesting one. This isn't exactly something I could've seen us doing._ "  
><em>Watching the passing metal bridge beams go by, Gar cracks a joke back in reply "And I never thought you'd be into punk music."

While driving across the Bay Area Bridge, the two passengers inside the early 2000s white sedan might appear to be fussing but this isn't your usual car ride.  
>Turning down the political hardcore, former Detective Rebecca T. Sinclair retorts at his lack of music taste: "I saw the Dead Kennedys long before you were born, Garfield."<p>

"_Really?_" Sarcasm aside, the idea that the former police officer had a thing for punk music is an odd sound to his ear. "Back before big hair took off and Madonna was still a painting, right?"  
>A smirk tugging at her middle-aged face, the woman in white next to him counters this next barb with grace "Back before big hair and shoulder pads."<p>

The Bay Area looks rather calm in the Pacific sun, nothing more than a brief respite from what will surely be a busy holiday week. "Still can't picture you in goth clothes and black nails."

"_Punk_ isn't Goth, at least not the stuff I grew up with. Kids today, never take the time to learn their own history."

Looking over to Ms. Sinclair, Gar's bored expression softens a bit as he tells her "I owe you for this trip, Ms. Sinclair. I don't mind hitchhiking with Jake but we're not as, ahem, cruel to each other as me and him."

"You were right, it's better to have a woman along for this than someone like Jake. He'd tell you "just get a brown suit and some shined up shoes" or something like that. You think _I've_ changed, he's come a long way since he moved from SoCal."

While Gar might always seem neutral, the grip she's holding on the wheel catches his eye, the fingers tightening around the leather hold like a vice. "What did he do?"

"He spent most of his free time skateboarding. Funny to think about it these days, all he did was grind and drop all over the place." Passing a slow-moving SUV, she brushes a strand of hair from her face. "It's a shame we have to grow older, isn't it?"

"I spent most of my time with the Titans playing video games and goofing off." His own expression turning introspective, Gar comments bitterly "It's sad but I guess that's why it's so hard growing up: We have to let go of what we never really had in the first place."

"Amen, Watchman. He wanted to turn pro, I wanted to start my own band… Before the bombing, I wanted to be a drummer but…"

Attention snatched at the _"bombing"_, he turns to Sinclair, asking "_Bombing_? What bombing?"

Her own eyebrow raised, the idea seems ludicrous but necessary to repeat "You mean Jake never told you? About how we ended up taking these career paths?"

"He always avoided talking about his early life. I know we he has secrets, we all have secrets, but sometimes I have that feeling he's seen some really horrible things."  
>Sighing, she turns off the bridge exit and makes for Downtown "All of us have… but he's really seen some things."<p>

Instead of the usual Salvation Army shopping that Gar's been used to for the past four years, a stop at one of Jump City's numerous suit shops is in order for the day's activities. More of a fond, aunt-sort of a way, Ms. Sinclair offers to recommend an appropriate "black suit and tie" setup Gar's aiming to buy. While it might not be as fancy as some high-end, all-made-in-Milan shop, the fact that her former police friends have frequented this place means no one's dumb enough to rob it.  
><em>"I can't believe Jake never told him about what happened to our friend, especially since he's one of the Desades' biggest enemies. He might not want to go back down that road but… No, I can't ask Gar to help get revenge, it's not what he needs right now. I promised Raven I wouldn't get him any more involved than we already have…"<em>

"Ms. Sinclair?"

"Huh? Oh, sorry Gar, I must have dozed off a moment."

Patting her shoulder lightly, Gar offers a somewhat odd looking smile (if only to calm her nerves) as he holds up a tie. "Too black?"

"It's a dinner date, not a funeral. You said you liked Purple, right?"

Later in the day, the pair find themselves driving past an old sight in Rebecca's life. On Lombard Street, around the famous "Lombard Street Hill", she takes in the sight of her old home.

"That's where you used to live, isn't it?"

"Yes. When Ripper set you up in Gotham, the Commissioner suggested that since I worked with you in the past, I might have encouraged this behavior. I was forced to turn in my gun and badge and, as a result, I couldn't afford the house any longer."  
>The downer mood he'd felt in Jake's car returning, his ears droop lower at the thought of having cost her a career AND her own home. "I didn't realize so many people were affected by me. When you're living day-to-day, in-and-out of abandoned homes, you forget about how you affect others in your life."<p>

"North Jump isn't as horrible as people say, I don't miss all the tourists around here either." Turning to Garfield, she asks honestly "This may sound silly coming from me but do you _enjoy_ living in any home you want? Raven told me that since you call yourself the "vagrant vigilante", you could take up shelter anywhere you wanted because it's how you choose to live. I know you have a dark sense of humor and all but do you really find that _fulfilling_?"  
>"When I was kicked out of the house in Gotham, I lived in a dumpster for a few days because it was freezing rain and I was in a somewhat nice neighborhood. When you realize you've slept in the worst possible spot anywhere in an entire American city, you realize that staying in a house with a bed covered in sheets is heaven. So, I don't find living homeless as fulfilling… but it does make sleeping on a mattress with pillows and covers feel like bliss."<p>

"Is that why you've been staying at Raven's house more and more?"

Expecting some warm-hearted banter from him, Sinclair's let down as he coolly answers "No. I miss having Raven around and that balance she brings to my life. When you live in burned-out shacks and condemned housing, you become a wild animal. Living with her shows me just how I can be human again." Looking at his watch, Gar asks of his associate "Could you mind making a stop in the Haight-Ashbury neighborhood? There's something I want you to see."

…

"Why did we park around the corner? It's just a bunch of stores and homes."

Walking a bit in front of her, hands in his pockets and sunglasses firmly on his nose, Gar remarks "I didn't you to wait in front of a head shop while I got some product."

Appalled, she stops and demands of the young man "You had me drive all the way out here so you could…?"

Turning, he dryly answers "Relax, I was fucking with you. We need to take the alley behind the stores."  
>Down the shade-covered alleyway, past the service doors and dumpsters, the sight of two would-be tourists might be odd if there was anyone watching. Even odder still would be as the man in black types in a security code next to a steel-colored door. With a beep, the alarm is deactivated and the door opens.<br>Surprised to see a stairway leading downward instead of the rear of a store, Ms. Sinclair follows but with apprehension. "What is this place?"

"In the old days it was a hippie record store. A few years ago it was an underground stronghold."

At the bottom of the steps, Gar flips on a switch by the door, revealing a large living room, kitchen, and workstation. "In 2011, it's my new HQ. Say hello to the old HIVE FIVE compound, now an abandoned relic that has enough power and utilities to keep me in business for years."

Amazed at the sight of this top-notch facility below a historic area of Jump City, she steps about the place, looking around in surprise. "THIS is all yours now? How did you come across this?"  
>"When I found Gizmo, he told me this is where his colleagues were hiding. Thanks to Madame Rouge and her underlings, the people that killed Starfire and Argent have been brought to justice and I have a new home away from home."<p>

Stopping in the middle of the room, she turns to Gar to ask "You seem so unenthusiastic. This could be a serious step up from a simple apartment. Why aren't you happier?"

Solemnly, Gar points out yesterday's fun "Because there were two people living here no more than thirty hours ago. I doubt they're still alive right now."

The awe giving way to horror, she asks the obvious question "Did you kill them?"

"I killed Gizmo the other night, Mammoth and See-More I gave to Rouge's crew. I figured keeping their headquarters served me better than more blood in my fingernails."

Shoulders slumping, this was what she was afraid of. "So you really have changed, haven't you? When I met you at JCPD HQ, you were this high-spirited kid with the sky as your limit… Now…"

"I don't intend to make this place a mockery of the HIVE, I intend to use it to help Jump City. Believe this or not, I'm not so heartless as to revel in my own revenge."  
>"No," stepping in front of the tall vagrant, she finishes "but it's a shame that young man I knew had to die so that this city could be saved. I guess Beast Boy's never coming back, is he?"<p>

Moving away and towards the stairs, Gar muses a bit "Never say never. It's not like I'm planning on fighting all of the city's crime _after_Ripper's dead."

On the afternoon of the 24th, Raven makes the note of teasing Gar a little for having remained at her house instead of the usual "2am bunk, 5am book" routine. Given the circumstances however, the sight of Gar presenting two tickets for a Christmas Eve orchestra concert catches the psychic off guard, enough that Gar offers a smile at her inward joy.

"I never pictured you as the dinner and a concert type." Her "Rachel' disguise in full effect, the slender woman's hands move for the fresh cup of green tea. Although the usual sort of drink between the two of them, the sight and sound of nearly a hundred other customers is a far cry from their usual kitchen sitdowns.

Not to mention their attires are far different. It's true that Gar's original "colors" were black and purple in the Doom Patrol but not in the form of a black suit coat, pants, and belt. Nor did it include a purple button-up shirt and silver Ankh.  
>"I never pictured you as the formal-yet-classy type."<br>Contrasting Gar's casual suit, Raven's combination of a long, black skirt and blue dress shirt almost project an image of a woman on her first…

"I told you, the cloak and leotard are my working clothes; I don't mind dressing up for special occasions."

A glass of wine between them, Gar raises his glass for a tap at that comment "Hear hear, it's better than jeans and trench coats."

"Much."

By the time the orchestra's warmed up and flowing strong, the audience is seated and gazing forth with great attention. A glance about the place would reveal that it takes more than good intentions to be amongst this crowd. Judging from the suits and hairdos, it's obvious these people have _money_. How Jake got the tickets however, that's another mystery for another investigator.

…  
>The sounds of "Jingle Bells" in brass and woodwinds begins the show, a spectacle of imitation snow and "wind" blustering throughout the stage. Each beautiful pull of the strings, exhale of the brass, and every chime of the bells takes Gar's ears into a world beyond the visual but deep into the auditory. For those with enhanced hearing, this soft rendition of a holiday classic might as well be the introduction to the jolly old saint himself.<p>

How many years has it been since he'd spent Christmas living as a deep-water squid in the icy Pacific Ocean? Being chased by sharks and octopus was far better than having to spend it inside the chilling confines of Blackgate Penitentiary. Still the loneliness of spending Christmas inside a solitary confinement cell would drive anyone to the end of their short rope. Who would have thought that after three horrible holidays, he'd be sitting in a plush chair in Downtown Jump City with a woman whose hand is currently intertwined with his own.

It was a look he'd seen on everyone's face since he'd returned, the look of tenderness and relief that Garfield "Watchman" Logan had returned to their lives once again. That feeling of tranquility just _being_ near him that so many people in this world would never feel. Certainly not Gizmo, Mammoth, or See-More… this would be their first Christmas being, well, _dead_. A quick finger on that silver piece of jewelry around his neck would be a simple reminder that life isn't as hard to snuff out as once believed. _She_ wore that same symbol around her neck, overseeing the deaths of _every_ living bit of existence and would continue until the end of her life or the universe's life. Would he, _could_he follow that same example?

"Tonight we'll be hosting a special, first-time act by one of our saxophonists. She'll be leading tonight's rendition of "Silent Night", we hope you'll give her an encouraging round of applause."  
>Looking to his "date", Gar informs her while standing up "I'll be back, need to use the restroom."<p>

His bathroom break finished, Gar moves for the doors leading back to the show when a familiar voice calls out to him. "Garfield, is that you?" From the opposing doorway, Madame Rouge has spotted him on her way to the facilities herself. "I was not expecting you to be _here_, Mr. Logan."  
>All feeling of warmth and comfort he'd felt inside has quickly evaporated, a feeling of stone flushes across his face, no doubt a shift from "Garfield Logan" to "Watchman" as some shrink would call it. "<em>Vous aussi, Rouge.<em> Did you treat your _workers_ out for a night of R&R?"  
>"I've come to enjoy the performance, Garfield, not to provoke trouble."<p>

Still unsure, he has to relent soon however or Raven will worry. "That's my job I guess. I appreciate the help clearing out the old _rat nest_."

Stepping to the bathroom door, she assures him "I trust we are even then? No more favors do you require?"

"For now. If you'll excuse me…"

As the Watchman departs, the veteran criminal can't help but suppress a smile and a laugh under that heavy accent of hers. "I just hope Rose doesn't see him here. I would hate to ruin his night so soon…"

As the night passes the midnight mark, three days of no sleep fall apon the Watchman like a dozen barbells onto his shoulders. As the two settle back into the apartment after their little "date", Gar sits at the couch to take his shoes off. Dressy as they may be, "shoes" are different from steel-toed boots in more than one way, especially on feet as rough as his.  
>"No more suits and shoes for awhile, huh? Back to boots and jeans for the night?" Gar doesn't ignore the downer tone in Raven's voice but if one expects to be comfortable, they shouldn't wear clothes they haven't donned since before the economy collapsed. "I bet you haven't slept in a few days, have you?"<p>

"Not since Tuesday. As for the boots and jeans, I can't wear them if I'm sleeping."  
>"Some tea before bed?" Nodding at the thought of homebrew tea, Gar kicks off the dress socks and graciously accepts the offer. "Tonight was fun, probably the most I've had in a long time."<p>

"Glad you liked it." Kicking off the dress socks, the loose feeling in his toes feels like a breath of fresh air. "I haven't been at a concert since I was really young, I loved the saxophone bit."

Opening the kitchen cabinents, she calls back "So did I. We should do things like that more often."

Letting the ankh sit aside for a moment, the buttons on this shirt just HAVE to come off. "I like orchestras and all but please no operas. I know some conversational language but I can't stand when they scream in different languages."

…

The tea prepared, she brings the two cups over to the couch where Gar has leaned deep into the cushions. "You need to sleep."  
>"I need a full week's worth of sleep. What tea is this?"<br>Inhaling the smell of peppermint and spearmint, she sips at the drink, replying "Peppermint, it _is_ Christmas after all."

"Didn't you tell me years ago you didn't observe Christmas?"

Wow, how long ago was _that_? That was almost ten years ago when the Titans were formed… "I enjoy the meaning, not the commercial aspect."

Eyes staring into the distance, from memories or from fatigue he's not sure, the soft words come out slowly "Yeah, I heard that.'

Looking him over for a moment and how he's starting to drift into sleep already, she puts her own cup aside on an end table. With his arms stretched across the back of the couch, she leans into his body, arm across his chest.

"Rae?"

Closing her own eyes from weariness, she whispers "Thank you for coming back to me, Gar. It's the best Christmas gift anyone could have given me. I know you've lived a hard life since leaving the Titans, I know you've gone through a great deal in Gotham… but I want to hold onto you tonight, if only for tonight."

Eyes closing on his own, he uses his right arm to hold her close, whispering back "I understand… and thank you, Rae. This has been the best Christmas in my life."

A/N2: "Awww ain't that sweet" might be true here, I do enjoy writing Rae/Gar more than Draft One or Two because they feel more real. Raven's matured as a human being (not just as a demon) so having Gar with her, that one big chance at a normal life, is something she'd be willing to hold onto, even if he's not leading a very healthy life. FINALLY I get to re-introduce Gar's hideout below the old record store in the Haight-Ashbury. Why didn't I show Mammoth and See-More's deaths? Did you NEED to see it? Gar tortured Gizmo in front of everyone as a demonstration (dirt earns respect from criminals, Robin gets to see Star/Argent's killer murdered without blood on his hand, and it sets the tone for Gar's return home).

Trivia:  
>- Rebecca Sinclair's reference to Dead Kennedys, Punk in general, and Jake's "skateboarding" is all derived from that failed story I had about them.<br>- I bet you thought this was gonna be a rehash of that Four of a Kind chapter where the Desade family takes over the concert. NOPE!  
>- "Secrets, everybody's got secrets" from Training Day again.<p>

Rhetorical:  
>I think in a past life I lived or stayed in San Francisco. To feel so strong about the city and the music there in the 60s doesn't feel right, especially coming from a person living in the Northeast by the Atlantic.<p> 


	10. Chapter 10

****A/N: FINALLY I got past this frustrating (yet happily on point) finale to "To Be Where I Have Been." Gar is, in this chapter, what he really deep inside. This is a long finale because I feel something important is going down in this fight and it's trust me, Gar earns it.

**Redux 3: There Goes My Hero**

"To Be Where I Have Been"

Chapter 9:

December 25, 2010:

In the warm confines of Raven's apartment, Gar sits on the couch, hunched forward with his chin on his hands. While Raven might be away at Titan's Tower, Gar has chosen to remain "home" in order to keep from spoiling her holiday with the Titans. Given the current situation unfolding Downtown, however, his Christmas might not be so cheerful after all.

On the chilly streets of Jump City, amazingly a crowd of protestors has formed, chanting and demonstrating outside of the city hall. People wave signs baring anti-metahuman and anti-mask slogans, others in defiance of the mayor's so-called claim of deterring organized crime.

"What do we want?"

"Safer streets!"

"When do we want them?"

"NOW!"  
>"Crime doesn't shut down for Christmas but our government takes three weeks off!"<p>

"BOO!"

Back on the megaphone, the lead protestor demands "We won't stop until this city gets off it's ass and starts protecting us instead of relying on _kids_ who do NOTHING!"  
>The assembly, nearly ten thousand in number, circles the building while police officers stand firm in keeping the city's residents from storming the seat of government.<br>A JCN news team is on the scene, filing the demonstration as one of their reporters comes into frame. "We're live on the scene in Downtown Jump City where thousands of locals have gathered to protest the city's stand on organized crime and it's reliance on metahumans for protection. The JCPD has barricaded the doors to City Hall while more police officers are being called in for crowd control. The situation appears to be escalating from the previous demonstrations here as even members of Jump City's religious and civil services have begun to voice their opinions. While Archbishop Niederauer has called on the city's population to exercise restraint on this day of peace, he admitted that much more could be done on the city's part to combat crime and poverty."

As the protest stretches into the late morning hours, the number of citizens has grown from ten to twenty thousand, all in support of this latest protest. As the numbers have swelled, so too have the numbers of police and riot guards, adding to an already dangerous powderkeg in the making.  
>"Hungry, not hopeless!" a woman of "low economic standards" shouts through a megaphone. "We want food, we want heat, we want a clean street for our children!"<br>"No more raises for politicians who do nothing but waste taxpayer money and run up the city's debts!"  
>As the insults from the crowd grow, the looks in the eyes of both sides begins to grow sharper and perhaps a bit more frustrated. While it's obvious that no member of the city's government is <em>inside<em>the building, the fact that none of the elected officials has made a statement is just serving as another insult in a long line of insults.

The sound of a large impact throws off the anger for a moment. As a group of citizens get back on their feet, the image of a large beast standing amongst their ranks brings a cold rush of fear up the protestors' spines.  
>"Don't be afraid, I'm here to support <em>you<em>. Let's send a message to Washington that it's time we stopped relying on costumed freaks to protect this great country." Recoiling in fear of this twelve-foot tall beast, the crowd starts to fan out, fear taking hold rather than the will to protest. As the people flee, the anger boils to the top for the former General. Mashing a fist into his other hand, he bellows with anger "Typical insects, no backbone at all. If people can't stand up for themselves, they don't deserve this country!"

_"Are you watching the news, Watchman?"_

Tapping the earpiece, Gar responds "Been watching it for awhile now. Seems Jump City's been attracting some heavy hitters lately."

"_The Illuminati and Rouge's group not withstanding, the city's attractive enough when the Justice League still refuses to break their deal with Robin."_

"If the Titans can't subdue the General, they might need the League."

Something of a snort echoes through the earpiece, Question's sarcasm certainly fills the airwaves _"The General overpowered several minor League members with little effort; the Titans will need the League more than they realize."_

Still observing the crowd on television, Gar's mind notes that while the General might not be attacking the crowd, the response from the JCPD should provoke a Titans' attack. "What's his weaknesses?'

"_According to Cadmus files, the Captain Nazi serum Eiling injected into his body gives him super strength, endurance, and invulnerable to any explosion less than artillery. He might as well be a deformed variation of Superman."_

"You want me to help the Titans fight the General, don't you?" Narrowing his eyes at the sight of Eiling lifting a car over his head, the question might not need any answer.

"_If it were possible, I'd advise you to keep out of this fight. This will be a battle between metahumans who seek peace and those who seek control."_

A bemused, sarcastic laugh at the thought, Gar asks "How much you wanna bet that both are claiming the other's the bigger threat?"

"_And that's why you should avoid this fight; you understand that neither side can truly "win" this debate."_

The sarcasm draining at the sight of the Titans on the TV, Gar admits through the earpiece "If I don't get involved, he's likely to break the Titans. I'd feel wrong staying in Raven's house if I didn't do anything to help her."

A bit of a pause follows Gar's reply, long enough for Question to form an ironic thought in his head _"Is that the words of a man in love?"_

"Hard to say, I haven't been in love in some time."

"Well it's nice to see the cavalry's arrived…"

Standing in formation, the five men and one woman are poised and ready to strike. "I don't know why you're in our city, _General Eiling_, but you're threatening these people and it's something I just can't allow."

"_Cute_, is this what this country's come down to? Having to rely on children barely old enough to drink?" Hefting a SWAT van over his head, Eiling remarks "I didn't come here for a fight but since you've shown some interest…"

Avoiding the van, Nightwing announces "Titans, go!"

_"I take it you've been watching the live broadcast?"_

"I've been watching it from the rooftops across the street." Black coat and green hair whipping in the wind, Gar's patience is holding firm even as the Titans' position is crumbling. "I've been briefed on his abilities but I need some information from you."

"_Of course, he used to be one of my top advisors after all. He believes himself to be a force representing the purity and honor of America even though he'll kill anyone who disagrees with his methods. We've never been able to catch up to him long enough to put an end to his ambitions."_

Watching Eiling toss Cyborg aside like a child's toy, Gar can't argue Cadmus's inabilities at stopping him. "I heard he put several Justice Leaguer's in the hospital a few years back."

"_He's got a couple decades of military knowledge and a body that can level cities: Don't underestimate him, Watchman."_

"I'm more worried about how to beat him. If he can take care of the Titans, will the League get involved?"

"_That's difficult to say for sure. Batman and Nightwing's pact is solid, enough that it kept the League from helping defeat Raven's demonic father."_

A clench of the fist, Gar's teeth bare in hate "I _knew_ something was wrong about of all that. We had to rely on Slade just because Batman had to be a stubborn…"

"_Focus on the now, Watchman. Those protestors are still in danger. If they were smart, they'd leave the square."_

Raven and Herald are smacked away, sent flying into the side of an SUV with a loud crash. "That's their fault. In the meantime, I'm going to have a word with Eiling."

"… where the battle continues to rage between the Titans and the creature known as "The General". Despite all attempts at evacuating the citizens, the people of Jump City almost appear dazed by the fight unfolding before them. For the most part, the combatants have ignored the population, fighting it out in front of City Hall in a fierce… LOOK OUT!"

As the JCN crew scatters, Nightwing is thrown past the cameras and straight into the passenger side of the news van. Moaning from the pain, Nightwing forces himself back to the street with a pop in his spine.  
>"This is incredible, did you see that?" Seeing the red light on the camera, the female reporter steadies herself "Titans' leader Nightwing continues the attack despite the crushing impact he'd been dealt by the General…"<p>

"You kids just don't get it, I've got Superman's strength in my hands and more military intelligence in my brain than half of the Pentagon. You _won't_ beat me."

Raven summons up some cars of her own, throwing them at the General in the hopes it can stun him for a moment. Incredibly, the explosions from the vehicles only force a blink of the eyes from the General. "No way…"

"It's a pity how far I've fallen. Just a short few years ago I had the authority to nuke the entire world if I needed to… Now I'm reduced to slugging it out with children barely half my age…"

Leaping forward, hands changed into cannons, Cyborg declares "Less talk, more punching!"

"Maybe we should go down there before someone gets hurt. This is out of their _league_."

Glare on his face, the man in the black cape stares at the screen with sharp eyes. "That's Nightwing's decision whether or not to break the deal. If he wants our help, he'll need to call us himself."

"I can't believe you, Bruce. Even now, with his life on the line, you'll let him suffer just so he can learn a lesson."

Ignoring the man in the big red cape, the man in black turns away from the screen. "I'm hoping Eiling can beat some sense into that boy. He doesn't realize just how many super criminals there are in Jump City, much less that one of his old _friends_ is about to make things worse."  
>"But we can't just let them get killed."<p>

"… We agreed that the League wouldn't get involved. Not _all_ heroes are League, right?"

As the Titans stand firm, holding onto their bodies despite the pain, Eiling stands strong and cracks his knuckles. "I've indulged you kids for long enough. I only came to this rally to support the dissolution of the Titans, not to beat you into oblivion. Its funny how things happen in war though, isn't it?"

"This isn't a _war_, Eiling, this is about your own prejudice." Nightwing spits some truth at the hypocrite monster before him. "It's people like you that cause distrust in the first place. Instead of helping America, all you're doing is ruining it."

A snarl in his giant jaw, the monster General demands "How do you figure that?"

"The more you say you're _defending_ America, the more tyrannical you appear." Raven informs the hulking beast. "How do you expect people to _listen_ when you're being the very threat you're trying to warn people about?"

"Heartwarming speech but I've heard that before. Unlike those Justice Leaguers, you people really do have superpowers."

"So what?"

"It means I'm going to enjoy pounding you into the dirt, tin man." Joining his hands, he stands before the Titans, ready to crush them. "You let Jump City sink into crime and misery. In the military, when you fail a mission, you get sacked."

…

All motion is stopped, forgotten momentarily by the sound of a deep "thump" below their feet. Everyone from the news crew to the protestors look to their feet, marveled as the ground below _feels_ like a tremor but…

With a fantastic crash, the asphalt near General Eisling bursts apart, fragments of stone and concrete falling on the protestors. Great awe and terror in their hearts, the crowd witnesses the form of a giant, black, vicious-looking Xenomorph queen emerging from the crater.

"What in the world…?"

Rearing up from the hole, the alien from the movies stands a great fifteen feet in the air, it's drooling teeth and tail whipping about in a random motion.

"It's Gar, goddamn it he's here!" Cyborg announces, thrilled and relieved at the sight.

"_You_? I thought the Watchman was locked up in Arkham Asylum."

As the crowd comes to life in cheering at the horror icon, Eiling steps back as the great stinger at Gar's end whips for the monster's heart. Hissing, drooling, the monsterous alien queen marches, slashing with his claws and tail, nearly "barking" in anger.  
>"Alien or not, I can take it." Grabbing onto the tail, the General attempts to throw Gar but the vagrant changes forms again, this time into a Stegosaurus. Howling in pain, Eiling releases Gar as the sharp tail spikes of the dinosaur dig into his skin. Not finished yet, the Stegosaurus changes directly into an Ankylosaurus. Bellowing, the armored dinosaur spins a full three-hundred and sixty degrees, flailing it's armored tail club into the General's chest.<br>Everyone erupts into a great cheer of approval as Eiling is thrown across the square and into the window of a storefront.

"Thanks for the help, Watchman." Nightwing thanks his old teammate for the assist, despite the pain in his ribs.

Nodding, Gar's reply is short "He's not done yet. I've just pissed him off."

Indeed the giant wails with rage, smashing through the building and shouting at the top of his lungs "YOU NO GOOD DOG! I'm surprised they'd let someone as insane as you out of the loony bin. Just like I said, you worthless heroes can't keep anyone in jail, not even people as mentally twisted as you."

Stepping in front of the Titans, Gar warns Eiling with a shout "I have a message from Waller. She says your services are no longer required."

A vein forming on his head, Eiling barks in hate "That useless bitch has the nerve to sack _me_? Well, I have news for you _Watchman_, after I'm done with you, I'm taking her out. You people can't cross me and live to tell about it."

"Just like old times, huh G?"

Noting the solemn smile on Cyborg's face, Watchman answers in the positive "Like a talking version of Cinderblock, Cy."

_"We're reporting live from Downtown Jump City where it appears that the former Teen Titan "Beast Boy", now known as the "Watchman", has returned to our city and is now fighting alongside his former teammates. It's been nearly three years since we've last heard of the Watchman, the former Titan having been arrested in Gotham for the infamous "Hanger 18 Massacre".  
><em>The JCN broadcast is currently being viewed by more than just the Bay Area, the live feed having been picked up by the national news networks and online media. Millions, if not hundreds of millions now watch as the Titans and the Watchman engage the monstrous General Eiling, a fight that both sides throw their full strength into.

And while the eyes of the world may be on the Titans, eyes belonging to criminals and heroes alike scan the screen religiously, hoping for some news worth watching. For many of the criminals, the sight of the Watchman in combat is a stern reminder that Jump City's most dangerous vagrant is back on the scene and as violent as ever. For those that might be criminals but still retain a conscience, the sight of the green-skinned vigilante serves as a beacon that just because one bends the rules doesn't mean one can't follow their own path. And for one woman in particular, the sight of the vigilante in black brings a very teenage-like squeal of happiness.

Sliding along the concrete after a throw from Eiling, Gar resets himself, pulling a flash grenade from his coat pocket.

"Put it away, boy, that little firecracker won't hurt me."

Sneering, Gar retorts "Who said I was trying to _hurt_ you?"

The grenade goes off after Gar tosses it in the air, the temporary flash of light blinds the General long enough for a housefly to take off into the sky. Eiling might be searching for the insect but a shoulder tackle from Cyborg has the giant beast staggering for a moment. Two explosives hit his back followed swiftly by a strong burst of psychic energy.

"You kids are becoming a nuisance. Don't you see that it's hopeless?" Stomping on the ground, the incoming green bull is thrown into the air from the shockwave, his teammates being swatted away by a hard clap of the hands. "I might be big but you can't deny I got the power to crush you like bugs."

"Size isn't everything; it's how you use it that counts."

Sensing a joke at his expense, Eiling stomps on the ground again, throwing Gar further back into the throng of protestors. "Turns out the foot is mightier than the word, wouldn't you say?" As the Titans try to jump on Eiling's back, a long swing of the arm pushes them back, bouncing hard off the unforgiving street. "Don't you realize that I'm only _toying_ with you? This battle would have been over in minutes if only I'd given a real damn."

"I hope that mouth of your's is tougher than your skin!"

Turning back, Eiling's startled to see Gar leap up with a frag grenade in his hand. Shoving it into the General's mouth, Gar pulls the pin and jumps off. With a sick bang, the grenade goes off but only smoke billows from the monster's mouth. "_Much_ tougher I'm afraid."

Standing tall but tired, Gar admits that fact might be true "I guess the bigger the mouth, the harder it is to close it?"

Standing twice the height of Gar, Eiling might as well be a mountain next to a haystack. With a smoking, toothy grin, the former military officer asks "Would you prefer I squash you like a bug or make a pancake out of you?"

"_How would the bug like to meet the bugzapper?" _Turning about, both Gar and Eiling see a blue stream of electricity slam into the gray skin of the beast. Howling, the monster staggers for a moment, looking for balance and a cease to the sparking power. "Sorry I'm so late, Watchman-baby, T&P and me had to get through the traffic."

Offering a grin of his own, Gar suggests "Thanks for putting the _spark_ back into my day."

"Forget the puns," T&P warns, aiming her tattoo gun "he's pissed off now."

The tattoo needles do nothing against Eiling's thick hide, they only add to his fury. First the Titans, then Watchman, now these _wenches_? "I'll make you pay for that, you little fucking…"

…

There's no time for retaliation on the General's part neither as a swarm of cards surrounds the hulking behemoth.  
>Eyes wide and startled, Gar mouths "No way… not <em>him<em> too!"  
>Looking into the crowd, the people scatter as a man in white emerges, his black gloves pulled tight onto his hands. "And the Lord said "He who makes a monster out of his body, who mocks the Lord by corrupting His perfect image, shall not walk through the valley of death, mere mortal, but instead he shalt walk through the fires of Inferno. You who would corrupt the image of God, who would insult his…"<p>

"Enough of the sermon, Baptist, just use the cards already!"  
>A smile on his face, Baptist listens to Gar by snapping his fingers. In a great, furious flash, all 52 cards explode, shrouding the creature in smoke and flame. The Titans, Gar, T&amp;P and Livewire, all stand in awe at the sight of Baptist's attack. What's less in awe is the obvious fact that Eiling has survived and grown beyond angry. "What?"<br>"Did you think your cards could pierce MY flesh? I can survive artillery, do you think your little party tricks could harm ME?"

After an hour of combat, the Titans are nearly spent, Gar is struggling, and both T&P and Livewire have been thrown through a store window themselves. Baptist still maintains the fight, using his poker cards to stick Eiling's flesh but penetrate no deeper than flesh wounds.  
>Leaping over Baptist, Gar attempts to transform into an Allosaurus but is caught and hurled into a parked public transportation bus…<br>As he looks on after the impact, the sights in his eyes become distorted, twisted… a sharp pain rings through his skull, the tell-tale signs of a concussion begin to set in as life feels loose and faint at the same time. But as the sound of 60s music begins, as the vision becomes confusing, the grim revelation unveils itself as a white rabbit runs through the assembly area.  
><em>"One pill makes you larger…"<em>

"NO! I'm NOT going down that road again… Get the fuck out of my head!"

"_Watchman, can you hear me?"_

That wasn't Grace Slick, that was something else. "Who is it?"

Still laying against the bus, Garfield Logan looks forward to see a figure in black, a rope about his neck, and glowing white eyes in his corpse-like face. _"You're wound's triggered a White Rabbit flashback. You must overcome this."_

"It's not that easy, Crane."

"_You must if you are to defeat that cretin. Focus on the fight, not on the rabbit."_

Rubbing his face, Gar tries to ignore the music and the floating scenery "How? How do I ignore that?"  
><em>"By accepting that you're having a flashback, that it's the drug causing the rabbits to appear, not your conscious mind. If you accept your fears, they will vanish. Now get up, fight past the rabbit, and teach that monster what fear tastes like."<em>

…

Held in the air in his massive grip is the Baptist, a very angry and Latin-speaking Baptist that is. 'You zealot, just another failed seeker in the long history of failed seekers. The only God that exists is your own power. If Man can overcome outer space and genomes, he can overcome _God_."

"Eiling…'

Throwing the Baptist away, Eiling turns to face the battered man who spoke his name. "Well, I'm surprised you can still stand, Watchman."

While he may not realize it at the moment, the fact is he's the last man standing, still in the middle of the fight and just as worse for the wear. "Got a question for you."

"What's that?"

The image of the enemy is still distorted, turning from one side to another, but still the rabbit urges him onward, ever onward. "How would you like your brain? Scrambled or sunny-side up?"

As the smaller man stands before him, Eiling laughs at the empty threat "I prefer them straight up with a dose of reality. How would you like your ribs? Broken or fractured?"

Looking up, Gar's delirium allows him a worn out smile. "I don't eat ribs, they're non-vegetarian." With a sickening crack, the fist of the General comes crashing into Gar's mid-section. Though not as strong as he could be, the impact is enough to throw Gar a good twenty feet back into an ambulance. "Ow."

…  
>Miles away, a woman in red screams at the television. Whether or not Gar will listen is out of her hands.<p>

…  
>Standing up from the ambulance, Gar clutches his side, gasping for air as he starts to walk towards the juggernaut again. The rabbit's eyes are indeed bloody and vacant but while it used to run in the past, the rabbit stays as Gar seemingly walks past him.<p>

"I admire your courage, Watchman. A lesser man would have stayed down after that abuse. It's a shame you're not on our side."

Eye closing, he reaches into his coat pocket for a broken pair of green sunglasses. Still fitting on his nose, he stops before Eiling again. Flicking the lighter, Gar suggests "How do your take your meat? Well done or bloody?"  
>Grinning again but without the sarcasm, Eiling responds "The tougher, the better." This time he uses his massive foot to punt Gar across the street and into the crowd. "Give it up, Watchman, I can do this ALL day."<br>…

Even as the Titans attempt another assault, Gar finds himself struggling to get to his feet in the crowd.

"Stay down, kid, you've done enough."  
>"Don't go back out there, he'll kill you!"<br>"Mommy, please, make the man stop!"

Up on his feet, the footing may be shaking and off-balance but once again his body presses towards the giant.  
>Stopping him, a woman in police clothes urges him 'Don't do this, don't throw away your life."<br>Blood oozing from his mouth, Gar retorts stubbornly "If I don't, no one will."

…

Back into the open space, Gar watches as Cyborg has an arm ripped off and tossed at the T-Car like a toy soldier. Livewire again attempts to fry Eiling but has Nightwing tossed at her for her trouble.  
>"Gar, what are you doing?"<br>Raven's voice might have reached his ears but with the concussion and White Rabbit firmly in control, no one, no matter how much he might care for them, no one will stop him.  
>With no one but Eiling and him again, Gar steps up to the plate for another try. "Got a question for you."<p>

A wide grin on his face now, the General beckons the green ex-Titan. "What do you wanna know, boy, go ahead and ask?"  
>"If a man says something in the woods… and there's no woman around to hear him… cough, is he still wrong?"<p>

A howling laugh comes from the General, seemingly brought back to life as it were by the stubborn Watchman. "Only if he's as stupid as you!" Picking Gar up, the General tosses him like a basketball.

The outline of people moves like after trails, dizzy and blurry… Something feels like a car hood beneath him but can't be too sure. Copper taste in mouth, head feels like the inside of a wave pool… Feet still work but the back ain't feeling right.  
><em>"You've done enough…"<em>

Whatever she said, sounds too muffled in his ears… Headache and rabbits and electric sparks…  
><em>"Restrain him…"<em>

Men in black, helmets…. SWAT?... No, nothing's gonna stop him now.  
>The woman in black with the tattoo gun stares them down… T&amp;P?<br>_"Let's get him, Watchman."_

Feeling of being helped, she's carrying him under his shoulder… Baptist thrown again… Herald tries to use trumpet… "When the man on the chessboard…"

"_What?"_

"Thank you…" Letting himself go from her, Gar stumbles up to the General once more, this time to his death most certainly. Screams of his name, but male and female sound the same when the world feels so muffled and mute.  
><em>"I wish our armed forces had your willpower, Watchman. We'd never lose another war if they had balls like your's."<em>

Too late for compliments, too late for victory. If one has to go, go out with a bang.  
>Weakly, Gar raises his fist up for display. "Got a question…"<p>

A smile but no laugh, this time he looks serious, Eiling replies _"Go for it, kid."  
><em>Cough, another cough. "Have…. Have you ever seen a fist THIS big?"  
><em>"Hah! That's the way to go!"<em>

Smiling, blood running down his chin, Gar comments again "Don't… don't make me… cough… don't make me throw this… I scare myself when I throw this… Ever, fuck this hurts, ever see the hole in the moon? You're welcome."  
>Closing his car-like fist into a ball, Eiling offers <em>"I hope they let you into heaven, if only for your courage. It would be a shame for you to rot in hell."<em>

Eyes shutting down, bracing for the hit, Gar responds with his last words "I'll be watching…"

The fist that was meant to end Gar's life stops about two feet too short. With his vision coming back, Gar notices that the fist was blocked by an ordinary looking man in a red and white costume. The large thunderbolt on his chest is enough for the dead giveaway.  
><em>"Sorry for the wait. You've done a great job, Watchman, now let me finish what you and your friends started."<em>

The final sound in Gar's ears as he collapses to the ground is the harsh sound of a fist crashing into Eiling's jaw and the roar of a man in some serious pain…

~~~  
>AN2: Ah, that was a big piece of work. As usual, the first half was hard to write, the second came to me like oxygen. Gar's fight with Eiling was a total "thank you" tribute to you don't know and his request for General Eiling (what's it been, a year since you asked?) I personally wanted all of Gar's closest people there at that fight (close referring to Baptist as someone close to his past, not heart.) Captain Marvel was a ONE-SHOT (I wanted to let the League in this episode but it's too soon so having a "non-Leaguer" interfere keeps the bargain in tact.)

Trivia:  
>- Lots of Justice League references.<br>- I can't write anything about "puns" without thinking of Dr. Light.  
>- "A fist this big?" is from Kung Fu Hustle, great film.<p>

Rhetorical:  
>The mini-arc next will deal with the aftermath of Jump City vs. Eiling, will reveal some Dr. Light info, and sets up the next big arc.<p> 


	11. Today's a Training Day

A/N: Mein Gott, THANK YOU! I finally was able to write a damn chapter! I went through about twenty drafts since the end of the last arc, literally about twenty. I had ideas ranging from Gar meeting the Illuminati, Rouge's again, the Titans, Question, Jake... I had a different story-outcome for every character he would've eventually met. The hardest bit about writing is writing something that's entertaining and yet plot-relevant. Out of all the "what if's" I could have written, this is perhaps the most "Watchman" of them all. Now this is done, we can clear the flow and start pumpin' out story again.

**Redux 3: There Goes My Hero**

"Today's a Training Day…"

Chapter 1:

December 28, 2010:

If the overpowering, all-pervasive scent of disinfectant and sterilization doesn't drive his mind crazy, the incessant nagging from the hospital receptionist just might push him over the edge. While it might be her job to ensure a patient uses proper discretion, a patient's _mental_ health should be a consider besides the singular focus on his physical.  
>"It's my right to check out <em>whenever<em> I want. You can't _force_ me to stay in this place."

Frustrated and bitter, the aging woman before him declares "We've been given directions to keep you here until your immediate health improves. Mr. Logan, you've experienced a serious blow to the head and multiple cracked ribs…"

"…which happen to be fully healed thanks to my former teammate."

"Still, the trauma to your brain?"

Maintaining his tempter, he nonetheless stares down the woman like God over a tiny demon. "I've had concussions before, I _know_ how handle the recovery. Now, give me the release papers before I get your boss down here and report this harassment!"

Outside of the wretched structure known as Jump City Memorial, Gar exhales his stress away, it being carried away by the cool, Pacific breeze. Almost dinner time judging from the setting sun, just enough time to get back to Raven's and hopefully get a warm meal.  
>Tapping the earpiece, Gar calls a certain woman far away, "Waller, its Gar."<p>

The call takes a few moments before the former Cadmus leader's voice replies _"Out of the hospital already, Watchman?"_

"I couldn't take being inside another prison again."

Almost admonishing him as a mother would to a sulking child, she coolly responds _"Sometimes you have to deal with things you're not used to in order to get things done. Just because Raven healed your physical wounds doesn't mean she's taken that chip off your shoulder so easily."_

Sitting by a bench near a bus stop sign, Gar muses a bit sarcastically "That chip wasn't so big after I saw the tape of Captain Marvel beating him senseless. Were you the one who called him to Jump?"

"_No, that wasn't our call. Either way, we have a bigger situation than Captain Marvel or Eiling. Have you heard about the Illuminati's Christmas Day heist?"_

Scowling bitterly, the vagrant declares "I always thought Dr. Light was just another madman in a mask… I underestimated him big time. How many banks did he hit at once?"

"_His organization took out fifteen banks simultaneously, seizing over three hundred million dollars in cash and precious stones. We believe he brought in General Eiling as a distraction for anyone who would get in the way. I'd say it worked better than he might have hoped."_

Leaning over a bit, the ribs might be fixed but there's still some residual pain. "With that in mind, will the Justice League _finally_ come to Jump City?"

"_The fact that Captain Marvel came to Jump City should mean that the League is pursuing the notion rather thoroughly. Captain Marvel isn't in the League but that doesn't mean they aren't keeping an eye on the situation."_

A small wave of blues flow through his body at that honest truth. "Any idea on how to proceed if they _do_ come to Jump?"  
><em>"We'll cross that bridge if and when we come to it. In the meantime, your fight with Eiling was broadcast worldwide. The world knows you're back in the city and as far as we're concerned, that can only mean more trouble."<em>

"I was afraid of that."

"_Watchman, we aren't cutting ties with you over something that simple. However, now that you've had time to readjust to the city, it's time to start taking the initiative again. As far as I see it, you have two options: The Illuminati or the cartels."_

Nodding, Gar wonders aloud "I guess if I've avenged Star and Argent, if only in a small way, it might be better to hit the cartels next. Dr. Light's too strong right now; he's got all the momentum."

"_Then put your plan into action regarding North Jump into action. Living in the slums for a while will keep the public's attention to a minimum and the metahumans don't seem to think much of the slums."_

"No, they avoid North Jump whenever possible these days. If I'm working with Bone again, that means I'll be in a war with Desade. There's no way he'd ally with Desade against Bryson, they're both too stubborn for that."

"_Then use the Hoods to eliminate the Desades once and for all. While the Hoods are still a criminal threat, they're nowhere near as dangerous as the Desades so containing them will be far easier."_

Fishing out his map from the coat's inner pocket, Gar asks simply "And Bulletface?"

"_In time you can deal with him. Do what you've always done; use his greed for your advantage. Watchman, now that the holidays are over, it's time to get back to work."  
><em>  
>After thanking Waller for the talk, Gar taps his earpiece once more to make another call. This time, a not-so-happy voice answers on the other side. <em>'Who the fuck is this?"<em>

"Put Bone on the phone."  
><em>"The fuck I am. You can suck on these…"<em>

"If you don't, I'll make sure the Watchman comes down to that house and personally _castrates_ you in front of every house on Macie Street. Put BONE ON THE PHONE!"

Following a serious of furious shouting and a few sounds of fists beating into the one holding the phone, another man calmly informs Garfield. _"Sorry about that, Watchman, this little MOTHERFUCKER"_ being emphasized with a kick it sounds like _"is new to the crew. I'll get Bone on the line."_

* * *

><p>Two days after Gar's release from the hospital, the vigilante sits comfortably inside the confines of Bone's black SUV, the trench coat and jeans giving way to his black suit and purple tie. If Gar could be called "overdressed", the man in black next to him is just plain swagger. Bone, a pair of silver and gold chains about his neck, sits with a pure white silk suit. Against Gar's toned down style, the neighborhood gang leader looks ready for a high-class party.<p>

Their destination up ahead is anything but the usual "gloom and doom" of a North Jump neighborhood. Rather than run-down streets and broken homes, the sight of the "99 Suns" nightclub in downtown North Jump looks like a glowing paradise. White spotlights on top of the roof; the building is a fantastic array of numerous orange neon bulbs and red carpet walkways.

Looking out of the window, Gar observes the old building's architecture... and a few ladies waiting in line. "Didn't know North Jump had a club like this."

"It's a little something me and the boys do now and again. Lately with everything's that been going on, we need a little reminder that it's not all about work."

The deeper meaning in his words doesn't pass Gar's sharp hearing but it's the lack of excitement in Bone's eyes that gives the show away. "One last party before the shit hits the fan?"

"That's right, something to remind ourselves what's waiting for us after we take over this city." Elbowing Gar to point out some women in line, the car moves away from the club for the rear parking lot. "Most of these women wouldn't even give us the time of day ten years ago. Give us a year, they'll be begging just for a quick glance their way."

"Everyone wants fame for free in this world. It's hard work that earns that, not just a pretty face."

"Respect is earned; you've seen that first hand in my house. That little punk bitch that talked shit to you on _my_ phone, go ask him how his teeth are feeling." Something very serious crosses that face of his, something that might raise the hairs on the back on one's neck if they don't know him. "Like the calm before the storm, you have to brace yourself mentally _and_ physically. If this is the last time we go rollin' like this, we better make it worth our while, ain't I right?'

After some "conversations" with the club's security and management, nearly forty of the North Jump Hoods stroll past the resentful line of customers out front. While the North Jump Hoods aren't rolling deep in the cash, there's a strong difference between being friendly and going home in a body bag.  
>Inside the air is alive with the thunder of bass and the ever-present sight of pulsing strobe lights. Feet stomping on the ground to a DJ's beat, more liquor and wine than one man can ever drink; the air is alive with the feeling of ecstasy and intensity. Even more intense given Bone and Gar's approach to a booth in the rear of the club, no one around dare speak a bad word about the group lest Bone's private "security" get involved in the discussion.<br>"So why did you pick this place, Bone? Why not just talk back at your house?" Sliding into the soft cushioned seat at the booth, Gar's sense of "out-of-place" just won't go away.

Arms over the back of the couch, Bone gestures with his eyes towards the crowd. "If I had a dollar for every Jump City customer down there, I wouldn't have enough to get a gallon of gas for my Cadillac. That's because people don't see North Jump City as a place worth driving over that Bay Bridge for. Those suits on the council, those pigs in the uniforms, and those freaks wearin' spandex and masks don't realize just how bad it is over here."  
>With a finger, he points at Gar. "But you see something different than everyone else over that bay, don't you? When I heard about your arrest in Gotham, I damn near broke a smile. When you first came to me asking for help catchin' some drugged up serial killer, you were as green as that skin under that fake ass skin of yours. You tried to act tough to impress me or even to intimidate me but you couldn't even bring yourself to rob a liquor store."<p>

"Now there's a memory…"

A grin on his face, Bone tells the younger man in black "I remember that shit as plain as day. Watchman, I laughed when I saw you on TV because I couldn't believe that a kid who wouldn't want to rob a liquor store had the balls to kill one hundred criminals in one sitting. Shit, when we went to jack that stone the other week, I still thought you weren't gonna do it."

No flinch in his game, Gar continues to match eyes with Bone. "Imagine what you won't believe I'll do next."

Nodding proudly, Bone claps his hands "Congratulations, Watchman, you have finally earned _my_ respect."

"For doing what?"

Standing up from his seat, Bone points to one of his guys to get him a drink. "You've moved on from being some wanna-be crimefighter into someone who can make a _change_ around here. You're gonna set _everything_ straight, even if it's without me."

"But to set everything straight, I'll need your support to make it so."

"And that's the mark of a grown-ass player, someone who knows how to work with people instead of using them. The only question is how do you propose we take this shit with the Desades to the next level?"  
>A smile on his face at finally having gotten to the matter at hand, Gar pulls the same map from the other day from his coat pocket, unfolding it on the table. "First, we're going to need some hardware…"<p>

Around eleven o'clock, the business meeting has concluded. In according with Bone's idea of enjoying the calm before the storm, the group has moved from the booths to the floor. Laughing like young men, Bone and his crew party on the floor as though they'd never shot a gun in their life. With a beer in one hand and gold rings all over his right, Bone half-asses a moonwalk. With a half dozen beers in his body already, Gar cracks a grin as he jumps into a combination of the "lawnmower" into a backwards jumping basketball throw.

Whatever good vibes Gar had been experiencing disappears as his eyes spot a man on the other side of the floor by the bar. A normal looking young male in his mid-twenties, he doesn't stand out too much except for his one signature trait: A jester hat.  
>"Yo, Watch, what's up?"<p>

His good mood gone, Gar looks back to Bone's crewmate and asks "Do the Desades run drugs in this place?"

"Dunno, man, why?"

Eyes like a spirit of vengeance, the Watchman finds himself dropping into that dark place once again. "When Bone gets back from the piss, we're gonna go talk to someone."

Looking towards the bar, the Hood asks simply "Who? The white boy in the clown hat?"

"What's goin' on, everyone's so quiet." Half drunk and loose, Bone's not used to seeing Gar so ram-rod straight.

"Bone, see that motherfucker over there in the jester hat?" Gar asks, snapping his eyes back towards the criminal boss. "_That's_ one of Desade's drug dealers. If it's who I think it is, _he's_ the one who drugged me a few years back."

And as quickly as Gar dropped into that dark, evil place, so too does Bone and some of his crew. Turning to one of his boys, Bone instructs him to get the car and pull the rest of the Hoods out of the club. "He can't be here by himself; someone's lookin' out for him. Let's pull this motherfucker out nice and fast."

Walking about the club, Gar makes the first approach while the Hoods circle the club, eyeing Jester like a wounded animal ready for the kill.

"Hey, you Jester?" Gar calls out, trying to look civil.

Looking behind him, Jester's surprise turns to a big smile as he sees an apparently drunken potential client on this wild night. "Yeah, bro, I'm Jester! What's up, yo, give me some love!"

While Gar wishes the hand around Jester's shoulders was a knife in his back, he settles for a fake-ass display of friendship. "Yo, you still doin' the lookin' glass thing?"

Eyes changing from humor to dollar signs, Jester nods a few times "Yeah, got myself some if you're game for a trip down the rabbit hole."

"Look, I'm feelin' kinda exposed in here, you know? How about we do this shit outside?"

"Why, man, someone followin' you in here?"

Ignoring that look of concern on Jester's face, Gar laments as he acts as if his stomach's messed up. "My ride's comin' in soon and I need this shit for tomorrow night."

"Aww, I see bro. Yeah, let's take a walk outside. I got some good shit for you, man, straight off the boat from South America. You gonna LOVE it, bro!"

Outside of the club, Jester and Gar step away from hustle and noise of the queue line.

"So, man, which do you want? I got the Alice in Wonderland, some straight White Rabbit…"

Standing straight up and snapping out his lighter, Gar tells Jester in his most serious voice "I won't need any more of your drugs, I just want your _soul_."

Business turning to terror, Jester howls "WHAT? What are you talkin about, man?"  
>As a pair of SUVs pull up to the curb, Gar removes his holoring to a very scared and mortified Jester. "Hello, Jester, remember me? Pray for Death all you want but I don't think she'll want to see this!"<p>

With a loudly sparking buzz, one of Bone's men tasers Jester in the neck, dropping him like a bad bag of potatoes. With minimum of time wasted, Gar and the men pick up the limp body and toss him into the trunk of the vehicle.

Around two in the moring, Gar steps outside of the garage he'd tortured Gizmo, taking a moment to place an earpiece phone call.

"_Gar…?"_ Raven's voice is tired; perhaps she'd been woken out of her sleep. _"What's the matter?"_

In a very business-like tone, Gar announces to his dear friend "At a club in North Jump, I ran into Jester."

A long pause, feeling almost like an eternity passing, Raven asks with disbelief in her voice _"It's really him right, you didn't get the wrong guy, Gar?"_

"Jester hat, talks just like him, and he was selling White Rabbit. It's him, Raven."

"… _What are you going to do to him?"_

His tone softening, Gar speaks to her in a hush to keep Bone's men from hearing. "He won't leave here alive; even if I don't kill him, Bone's men won't let a Desade escape without cutting his throat."

"_Azar, Gar don't do this. Don't kill him!"  
><em>"And why not?"

"_Haven't you killed enough already? Killing him isn't going to give you your old life back. He's just a lowly drug dealer, don't kill him for trying to survive in this city!"_

Pausing, looking for the right way to put this, Gar announces "This isn't just one man, Rae, this is just the beginning. The North Jump Hoods are about to go to war with the Desades and I'm helping them all the way."

"… _Gar…"_

"For the next few months, I have to stay away from Jump City. I'm sorry Rae but this is why Amanda Waller sent me home. This is what I have to do if I ever want to live a normal life again. Good night, I'll see you again, sometime."

* * *

><p>AN2: This wasn't meant to be a overly awesome chapter but it's meant to establish tone. Gar didn't "choose" to come home, he was sent to the Bay Area to do a job: Shut down the cartels and find/kill Ripper. The Hoods/Desades war is about to begin and it's going to be vicious. Gar's not going to be "Beast Boy" or even "Gar" for awhile, his cutting ties with Raven for now is emphasis of that enough.

Rhetorical:  
>- I didn't give up on this story, it's almost it's second year anniversary of the 3rd Draft's start. I've been through a LOT lately, from the highest highs to deepest lows. Forgive me for not getting to this story but if I could, I would've written an outcome for him meeting everyone (it's just that the Bone story fit the tone for what the next arc was going to be)<p> 


	12. Chapter 12

A/N: Just watched Sin City in it's entirety today and it really put the hook in me. The storytelling, visuals, and the tone really sparked some interest back in what the Watchman _is_, not what he _does_. Garfield is a complex character in that he's not truly forthcoming about what he feels, almost as if there's a "Beast Boy", "Watchman", and "Garfield" side to him. I imagine that the "Gar" character is his human nature, the "Beast Boy" is his selfless heroic drive, and his "Watchman" persona is his rage. Either way, it gets violent now that this mini-arc's done.

**Redux 3: There Goes My Hero**

"Today's a Training Day…"

Chapter 2:

December 29, 2010:

_By the time the Hoods were done questioning Jester about his Desade connections, the coming twilight of sunrise had already started to peek over the horizon. Now that we had one of Desade's dealers to speak with, there wouldn't be any need to keep up this frantic pace. In less than ten hours we captured and beaten more information about the White Rabbit distribution system than six months of vigilante activity on my part._

_The information wasn't Earth-shattering but enough to point us in the right direction. Bone wanted control of North Jump's underworld and I didn't have a single reason to protest that goal. As far as I'm concerned, gangs and tugs who want nothing but money deserve an equal opportunity to live and die as the rest of them. It seemed that after walking the hard road of a vigilante for four years, I'd become apathetic to more than just my own well-being; I'd become apathetic to the thought that putting Bone on top over Desade may very well be just as worse._

_Speaking of the Hood leader, Bone had gone home shortly after we'd brought him to my interrogation building. For all of his hard-nosed talk and projected cold-blooded nature, the sight and smell of blood and torture must have gotten to him. He might have told me he respected my growth over the years but bringing him to my personal torture chamber must have put the zap in here._

_Fortunately the three goons he'd left me were in good spirits; the three of them must have been his personal "night shift" because at three in the morning, you're not the crispest piece of cabbage in the produce aisle. They took their time, beating into Jester whenever he wouldn't answer a question… hell, sometimes they'd beat him just for the fun of it. One of the three gang members, a man calling himself "Knuckles", put his fist into Jester's face so hard I could've sworn I heard his cheekbone shatter like window glass._

_Those three might have been fresh and ready to go but I hadn't slept since the day after Christmas. General Eiling's beating put me into a forced sleep as it were, one that put me into that black abyss for a full twenty-four hours. If it hadn't been for the doctors insisting I wouldn't need to pay for the trip, I would've left that place in a minute. And despite Raven's treatment on my ribs, the lingering effects of a concussion and a battered body had me already in a foul mood. Once Bone's thugs were through, I'd have the perfect punching bag to take out my frustrations on._

_Around seven in the morning I gave those goons the OK to leave. Jester had been bleeding from head to toe but I didn't want them to see what the kid had in store. With the steel door slamming shut, I let the intensity of the moment start to sink in. I was alone, all alone, with the kid that set me off on this long, dark road to self-destruction. If he would've kept that brownie to himself, he'd never have to see what evil lurks in the hearts of men…_

"You can torture me all you want…" Jester admits, spitting out some traces of blood. "I'm just a nobody, a no-good goon who keeps the city hooked…"

Sliding his chair over to get himself comfortable, Gar takes a seat no more than three feet away from Jester's broken form. With his prey tied up and bolted to the floor, there's no need to worry about proximity. Staring, observing, eyeing up Jester like a hawk… no words need be spoken, the mindfuck has only just begun.

"Aren't you going to say something?"

Hands crossed at his lap, Gar removes the holoring once more to reveal his true form. Calmly, the vigilante speaks "Do you know who I am?"

"You're Beast Boy _and_ the Watchman."

Nodding slightly, Gar counters "That's correct, in a sense. You can say I'm the Watchman living inside Beast Boy's body." Putting the ring in his pocket, Gar readjusts in the seat. While he stands a decent half foot over Jester, in the chair it's harder to make eye contact with your head leaning down. "The question is: Which one _am_ I?"

While the obvious can be spoken, the Beast Boy of Teen Titans fame didn't nearly have a look that cold. "You're… you're the Watchman, right?"

Nodding again, Gar continues "That's right; you're on the ball today."

"What do you _want_ with me? I've already told your friends about Desade's operation!"  
>"You've told us what you <em>know<em>, not what's _really_ going on inside that cartel." Leaning in, Gar uses a single claw on his finger to prop up Jester's head. "I've always wondered something about you: Why do you wear that Jester hat?"

"Helps the customers know who to look for… Once you get regular clients, they can point me out to their friends."

Releasing Jester, Gar leans back into his seat, his hands coming together by his chest. "Peacocking, I see. Let the prospective victim know the _irony_ of it all. Still, it's smart business on your part."

"What do you _want_ with me? Tell me, you're creeping me out!"

A smile on his face, Gar ventures an opinion to Jester's predicament "Do I _make_ you nervous?"

"At least those Hoods beat me, they didn't try to _fuck with my mind_!"

"We'll get to that. I want you to understand something about this little get-together."

"Which is?"

..

Standing at attention, Gar informs the captive drug dealer. "I've had four years to plan this meeting, four _very_ long years of violence and depression. I've gone through an ocean, through insane asylums, and two separate cities all in the hopes of finally getting to the bottom of what's been plaguing me."

His body starting to shake, Jester's tone wavers in fear "Which is?"

Eyes turning bright green, Gar snarls at the helpless criminal "Just _how_ should I pay your organization back for _all you've done to me!_"

_As I said, I took my time with him. Despite the hatred I held for the White Rabbit drug and its distributors, the fact is Jester was nothing more than a small-time pusher. He'd go to college parties, nightclubs, anywhere social where he could meet a prospective future-abuser. In the long chain of command, he was nothing, a simple grunt who's sole purpose in life was to make Antoine Desade that much richer._

_For the record I wanted to delay his death for as long as possible. In an attempt to be honest with myself and those that might read this, I still haven't found any joy in murder. If I had, Deadshot would've taken a bullet to the skull and I might've crucified the HIVE members on top of Arthur Void's-funded City Hall. Thinking back on what Death told me about a universal lack of morality, I've wondered if that was just an attempt at helping me cope with having killed for the first time at my old garage. Still, just because I haven't found a sweet taste in killing, I can't deny that I hadn't thought about how I'd kill Jester; I'd thought about it probably a million times since that night…_

_The clock was approaching noon and I could feel the tension in the air growing worse. The kid probably didn't sleep much the day before as he kept nodding off during our discussion. Once in awhile I'd hand-slap one of his wounds so hard he'd leap up against the ropes screaming bloody murder. While I didn't need to kill the kid, I had to make sure he was awake long enough for him to understand what was about to happen._

_During our conversation we came to a sensitive subject in both of our lives: The subject of Antoine Desade's daughter. If I recall correctly, Jester mentioned something about having a girlfriend during our fateful encounter four years back. At the time it never occurred to me that this could prove to be a vital clue in my mission against the Desades. If it weren't for the fact that Jester had threatened me with "knowing people" in the family, I might've missed that point altogether._

Turns out their little relationship was something of a ruse, something of a necessary passport in order to get Jester into clubs that normal dealers wouldn't be welcome at. You see, Rose Desade is both a drug addict and a mental thesis in the making. During our short time together, I could tell she was something of a Daddy's Girl who lived off the old man while she was off making trouble. Her brother, Marin, he might have been the next-in-line but she was a wild child out of control.

_… And they say in war the unexpected can become your greatest strength… No amount of physical torture or threats could have broken his heart so badly when I told him of the night Rose and I went out on the town. She'd driven us all over Jump City, tearing through bars and nightclubs on a search for Hell and high liquor. While I admit at the time I was downright scared of her, in the present I saw nothing but opportunity. Some of the stories may be lies and others truthful but I informed the young, misguided fool just how open her legs really were. He screamed in hate and bitterness as I told him just how large her condo was in Downtown… and how I supposedly helped violate that space with her that night.  
>... At that point in the conversation did I realize that deep down, some small shred of my mind had begun to do just what Robin and Cyborg thought about all of this: I had begun to enjoy torturing people. His pain at hearing the story of Rose and I had brought him to tears, so weak and cowardly, like a child lost in the rain without a mother's hand. He wailed for the fact that he'd been deceived when in fact he was living a phony relationship all along. It's really a harsh thing to accept being verbally abused but to do it while you're being physically beaten might as well be the nail in the coffin for your sanity.<em>

By the time the sun had begun to set, Jester's appearance seems to match his mind. Bloody, beaten, and tortured, Jester sits with his eyes to the concrete floor, his body limp against the ropes holding him back. "Are you done _toying_ with me now, Watchman? What else can you do that you haven't already ruined? My life, my girlfriend, my boss… they're all just _using_ me like a stupid pawn on a chess board."

On his feet once more, the Watchman announces "There _is_ one last thing I can take from you although just _shooting_ you wouldn't nearly do justice. You see," reaching into that coat of his, he produces a small bag of Jester's White Rabbit powder "I've been wanting to experiment a bit with your drug. Nothing _too_ major, I haven't developed a taste for drugs mind you, but something worth writing down in the old science journal."

"Go ahead, shoot me up, it'll be better than hearing any more of this…"

Eyebrow rising to the top, Gar proposes "So, you think there's nothing left that can get you out of this situation? You're just going to sit back and accept _dying_?"

Looking up at Gar so he can at least glare at the towering vigilante, Jester confesses "If you were going to spare me, you would've done it hours ago. Just get it over with…"

Somewhat surprised by this turn of events, Gar puts the bag back into his coat pocket. "Are you just giving up, just like that?"

"I told you!" Jester shouts back, wriggling at the ropes in futile desperation. "If you're going to kill me, GET IT OVER WITH ALREADY! QUIT DRAGGING THIS OUT AND JUST SHOOT ME!"

Leaning in to get a good eye-to-eye with Jester, Gar asks without any sense of hesitation or confusion "You're willing to accept _this_ as the end of your life? I've always admired the human will to survive, even in desperate situations…" Snapping his zippo to life a few times, Gar suddenly declares "Not today, not like this."

"What?"

"I can't just _kill_ you in this state of mind, it wouldn't be _right_. What's the operating procedure should one of Desade's dealers go missing?'

Glaring intensely at having to be played with further, Jester answers "They do a search, naturally. They'll look through the Pacific Sun's security tapes, any witnesses… they're like the police only more _efficient_."

Eyebrow bouncing up again, more playfully than before "So they'll be _looking_ for the two of us, right? Once they see me on those tapes, they'll put the word out that the _Watchman_ kidnapped one of their dealers, yes?"

"That's right! They'll find you, they always do!"

A broad smile and the closing snap of a zippo lighter, Gar announces "Good! Jester, I'm giving you an extension in this life. You'll be more valuable to me alive."

"I'm not going to be your _snitch, Watchman_!"

"No, you're going to be my _example_." Producing a small, black blindfold, the vigilante tells his captive "Stay still for awhile, ok? I'll be flying you back to the Desade HQ. Where would that be, anyway?"

Inside the crowded confines of North Jump's manybuildings, the pair of Gar and Jester land in the back alleyway next to one of Desade's businesses. Dusting themselves off, the pair share a mutual expression of surprise (for different reasons of course)  
>"I thought Desade had a bigger operation than this." Gar's observation of the beaten-down Chinese food joint doesn't seem too unreasonable.<p>

"It's where I collect my regular supply. Hey, Watchman, I…"

A cheesy smile on his face, Gar waves off the incoming comment. "Nothing personal, just something I had to clear up, a little "issue" as it were."

Looking towards the entrance of the alleyway, Jester nods a bit, his eyes facing a good night's rest. "Thank you for not pulling the trigger, I didn't know what…"

Before Jester can finish, Gar reveals a syringe full of White Rabbit powder. Plunging it into Jester's shoulder, the needle deposits nearly ten full hits of the addictive drug into his bloodstream. "What are you doing?"  
>Whispering into Jester's ear, Gar informs the terrified dealer "Make sure you tell Daddy Desade who <em>sent you<em>!"

_Before returning to my "home" in the old clinic, I had to take some time to meditate on what I just did to Jester. That brownie I ate in 2007 helped cushion the drug's effect slightly as it spread over a longer digestive cycle than taking it straight. With ten hits of street-grade powder in his blood, the effect would almost be instantaneous and borderline lethal…  
>And at the end of the day I ended up doing something far worse than putting a 12 gauge slug into his chest; I've ruined his mind and his life in some of the most horrible ways possible. He will never look at Rose or the Desades again with the same eyes, especially now that the drug he helped peddle just ruined the very fabric of his mind. This will take years to get over, both the physical addiction and recurring flashbacks, but no amount of therapy can cure the pain of knowing you were just a pawn in a much larger game of chess.<em>

_However, I guess this goes to show just how strong of an effect Raven has over me even after all this time. Had Robin, Cyborg… hell even if Kristine or Jinx asked me not to kill Jester, I would have ignored them outright. This very fact is proof enough that it's time I step away from that false, happy life I was building in Jump City, that happy life with her and me in the same home, sharing the same life. When you get down to it, I'm just another freak in the freak kingdom while she's a demon trying to make a better life in the human realm._

_Now that I've put that ghost of Beast Boy's life away, it's time to move on to the bigger fish. In a few weeks we'll have Bone's men ready to conduct a true war, there's no prize for second place. Once the drug cartel's been knocked over we can tackle Ripper's control over Jump City and finally bring some sense of order back to this wandering city._  
><em>… It's what I live for, for good or ill.<em>

~~~

A/N2: I didn't want to kill Jester outright, I've always felt sympathetic towards him as he's not evil, he's just doing his job. Still, this is sort of a shoutout to Draft One (in that Gar injected him with White Rabbit and left him to suffer). I suspect now that Gar's aware of Jester/Rose, he'll be more open to exploiting that for his own gain.

Rhetorical:  
>I love writing Gar's first person narration because I can articulate his moods better than writing his body language. On the surface Gar is a very stoic, almost rubik's cube like character but on the inside he's a complex, evolving human soul. Despite his attempts to grow colder, there's always Raven in the back of his mind, always the conscience.<p> 


	13. Hello North Jump, I'm Your Cherry Bomb

A/N: This arc kicks off slowly but will end with a bang, I assure you. Watchman is a rolling stone, not a rocket, so don't be surprised by this ending. While gangs may get the glory, it's the professionals who make history. We get to see everyone's favorite CEO back in action, if only for a cameo, and there's some big plot points ahead (make sure you don't miss them).

**Redux 3: There Goes My Hero**

"Hello North Jump, I'm Your Cherry Bomb…"

Chapter One:

January 15, 2011:

"…_and tonight's top story comes out of North Jump were it would appear the criminal climate in the Bay Area has started to rise once again. Despite the relative calm in the Bulletface-Desades war, violence has returned to the poverty-filled city as the North Jump Hoods. The small-time criminal organization has begun attacking suspected Desade businesses, killing anyone who opposes them. Already police are reporting a rise in murders following the Hoods recent public declaration of support in cleaning up the growing White Rabbit drug problem.  
>In a stunning message sent to our JCN offices, the North Jump Hoods have abandoned their anti-police stance and have offered to fight "fire with fire". While the Bay Area's police officials warn that vigilantism and criminal infighting will only result in more killings, the citizens of North Jump City appear to be supporting the Hoods. Polls taken over the past two weeks show that while most of the citizens agree that the gangs are a major threat, they are unanimous in their belief that the White Rabbit drug is a bigger one…"<br>_…

"What do you think?" In his tiny apartment, Jake and Sinclair watch the evening broadcast with both concern and curiosity although for different reasons than the news would intend. "Think Gar's behind this?"

While the initial reaction might be pro-Watchman, nothing _unusual_ about the announcement obvious triggers her mind. "Whenever Gar does something, it's usually big news. If he's involved, he would've let everyone know."  
>"You mean they would've found a corpse mutilated and ripped apart as if by a pack of wolves?"<p>

Sipping at a coffee cup, the former detective nods in agreement. "He'd let all of us know he's really involved…" Looking away from the screen, she asks a more pressing Gar-related question. "With all of this, I'm more worried about Raven than Gar."

"How so?" Lighting up a smoke, he muses "It's not like the Desades know where she'd lives."

"Sometimes it's the enemy in your mind that's more dangerous than those around you."

Eyebrow piqued, Jake has to ask. "Are you suggesting that Gar telling her to stay away might provoke her into going after him some more?"

"Love does funny thing, Jake."

Somewhere in his heart there's a feeling of laughter but it's the older, cynical mind that gets to speak. "I'm not sure if it's _real_ love if it's something more."

"What's more than real love?"

"Those two fought together for seven years, almost like two soldiers in a foxhole… When you see your friend in a fight, there's an instinct to get up and return fire with them."

A pack of cigarettes in her own hand, she pensively takes in the information. "Lovers, partners, but above all else: They're living lies."

"Raven might be living the quiet life in the city but you can see it in her eyes. She'd like him to settle down and lead a normal life, a life both of them could share."

Lighting the stick, she inhales and releases solemnly "But if he _won't_ settle down, she might get tired of waiting. She'll either leave him or _join_ him."

"Some traits never die, no matter hold old you get. Both of them are as stubborn as a pair of two dollar hookers."

Across North Jump, standing inside of a rather large "chop shop", Watchman and Bone stand together as some Hoods stock an assortment of assault rifles and other firearms into crates. One particular piece of journalism was unreported early last night: Two shipments of Bulletface "goods" were hijacked at Jump City's dockyards, resulting in the acquisition of nearly one hundred semi-automatic Chinese AK-47s and a vast assortment of other weapons for Hood use.  
>"One hundred AK-47s and nearly ten thousand rounds of ammunition… Damn I love it when a plan comes together."<p>

While Bone might be enjoying the taste of victory, and a cigarette, it's the Watchman who chooses caution over cheer. "It was a _gift_ from Bryson, Bone, don't let that go to your head."

"What the fuck you mean a "gift?" We took out _four_ guys and one of their SUVs just to get this shipment. I wouldn't exactly call that a _gift_."

Turning to his partner, Watchman suggests "If you had _this_ many rifles in transit, would you put six or seven guys near it to guard the vans? I've raided Bryson's warehouses before, they normally have up to a hundred _per_ operation."

"Alright, _maybe_ he gave us a favor in droppin' us these tools… But even if he did, he's still a fuckin' fool for givin' us so many. I mean, shit man, why would he give us all these guns for _free_?"

Snapping his lighter on and off, the muscles in Watchman's face begin to tighten, his fangs appearing briefly from his lips. "He's not _stupid_, Bone. The Hoods have been fighting Desade influence for a long time, as has the Bulletface Gang, so why not have a few rifles _disappear_ when your potential ally is about to go to war with your enemy? Had we asked him directly, he might have even given us a _thousand_ guns but this is the best we have right now."

"Never look that gift horse in the mouth. While it's true he _may_ be helping us, he better not come back and ask for payment. Shit, we _earned_ this fair and square." His eyes are pulled away by some goons dropping a crate. "Hey! You motherfuckers drop another goddamn crate, I'll be droppin' ALL of ya'll tonight! Get your ass in the game and get that shit movin'" The vigilante's silence at the sight further irritates Bone, if only a little. "Shit, we might _need_ more of Bulletface's help if this sombitches don't straighten their shit out."

"Maybe… For the time being, it's a gift horse. Where will you strike next?"

Rolling his shoulders to clear the tension, Bone retorts "Anywhere the Desades wanna make noise next. I'm thinkin' about takin' some of the boys down to the docks; see if we can drown some Rabbit in the Bay before it gets to the trucks."

Nodding a bit, Watchman turns his back to the loading and faces the door. "Security's going to be tight at the port. Why not follow the trucks back to the distribution areas, prepare for your next offensive?"

"You wanna make a difference in this world, you gotta think big and hit hard. Takin' out the boats might bring them to their knees without firin' any extra shots." Smacking his fist into his palm, Bone presses the point home. "Besides, what you got in mind? You gonna put in some work or just sit back and reap the rewards?"

"I got a date tonight with someone _real_ special."

Taken back, Bone asks with some sarcasm "Man, you better not be fuckin' some bitch on the side while we do _all_ the work."

Placing his sunglasses on his nose, Watchman looks back at the Hood leader, coldly reminding him "You don't use antibiotics for the common cold, do you?"

"Fuck no."

"Right. So, I'll be more useful somewhere more _important_. In the meantime, keep an eye on the morning news..."

Far above the common streets of Jump City, in a plush, high-quality condominium, the city's most profitable, and perhaps most influential businessmen is busy typing away on a five-thousand dollar laptop. Reading glasses on his nose, the sharp-boned CEO scrolls through expense accounts, invoices, and a particular document entitled "The Average Policeman Salary". When the cellphone in his pocket comes vibrating to life, it's the press of the Bluetooth earpiece that brings Bulletface Bryson's voice into Arthur's Void's ear.  
><em>"Well, Void, you were right. The North Jump Hoods took the gift basket without so much as a thank you."<em>

"I told you there were nothing but low-class scum, not even worthy to kiss our feet. Still, it's a miracle the Watchman managed to get them to attack the Desades."

"_More like the Watchman tricked them into it. If Bone really wanted to fight Desade, he would've done it when Desade moved his operation into North Jump years ago."_

"Hypocrisy and lack of vision, how sad that so many sheep should follow so blind a leader… Still, sheep have their purpose, Bryson. If we didn't have sheep, we wouldn't have anything worthy to lie on at night."

"_So should we continue helping them? I hate that freak Desade as much as you but he's far more reasonable to work with than Bone will be."_

Closing the financial windows, the shrewd businessman looks for something more _entertaining_ … like Sudoku. "For the time being we will. In the long run, a bloody war of attrition for the Desades and the Hoods will only make it easier to crush them later on. Discipline will win the day, Bryson, not recklessness."

"_I understand that but… Do you think Rip.. I mean "he" will allow it? Desade and he go far back."_

Tilting his neck back and forth to loosen the joints, Void's words are dismissive and uncaring "He won't interfere, not with the Watchman getting involved. He's twisted to his core but he seems to enjoy watching that kid evolve… I think he makes Desade's form of fun look like child's play." Noting the time on the clock, it's regrettably time to call it a night. "In the meantime, Bryson, make sure Watchman doesn't get _too_ comfortable with those weapons. I'd hate to see the balance of power shift _too_ soon."

"_Are you saying we should trust her? She might not have the support the Illuminati possess but she's still a threat to us."_

"Only if we keep our promise not to kill Desade's children: Keep them alive and we have her compliance. In the meantime, try to enjoy your evening. Daiyu tells me you've been having difficulty sleeping at night, something about a scarecrow..."

_"When I told Bone that using me for small tasks was too much, I meant it. What I've come to realize since my first campaign against crime in 2007 was that I have the ability to be far more dangerous than people give me credit for. In no less than a thousand ways I could kill a person and that's just using basic firearms or knives. As an animal I could injure of kill you in forms ranging from ticks to Spinosauruse; each with their own way of cruelty and viciousness. The hard part of having this special talent is the ability to choose which method to employ for each target. For example, I could use a hammer's fork section to impale a man through the eye socket or the flat end to damage his ear drums, the trick is how you employ your tactics…_

_That night I'd chosen a mid-level drug dealer, the dealer who oversees the distribution of product to his fleet of street-level goons. I figured that with the Hoods attacking their drug fronts, no one would expect an attack on such a higher-ranking figure. However, the fact was becoming clear that in order to make an impact, I'd have to do more than simply shoot or stab the bastard. Like Bone told me, if you want to make it big, you have to think big and hit as hard you can in the process._

_There are days where my nightly insomnia pays out more dividends than takes away. On that one night, the target I had in mind happened to be working the "late shift' in his warehouse, overseeing the extra protection goons he'd brought in to protect his dealers. A little fact for those who haven't studied their history: When a man protects his front, his back is weak; when he protects his left, his right is weak; and when he protects all sides, he's weak everywhere. He brought in an extra dozen guys to protect his dealers but he apparently forget to hire a few extra hands for his own protection: A fatal flaw in any doctrine of warfare._

_Driving in a polished silver Lexus, he left the facility around six in the morning, speeding off towards the North side of North Jump. Away from the urban jungle, he sped off towards what could be described as a "nice" side of the city. While being nowhere near as nice as the Jump City area, this neighborhood could almost pass for a normal, wholesome, crime-free town worthy of a medium tax bracket. If only they knew the snakes that live in their midst._

_No children in the house, his wife has either divorced him or works the first shift given the lack of other people in his home. Either way, it wouldn't matter once he decided to get into his bed. The sun might've been rising over the hills but for me, this was night-time stalking and would certainly be a night-time kill."_

With no security systems on his door, the Watchman easily makes his way into the house as a bug, transforming into a man survey his environment. Listening sharply, footsteps too small for human ears are easily picked up in his. Realization hits that a dog might be approaching his way, prompting the vigilante to take the form of a spider on the wall. Sure enough a young but fierce looking Doberman sniffs through the air in the kitchen, unaware that the humble spider above is making it's way across the ceiling and towards the stairwell.

Furthering his good luck is the rattle coming from the bathroom, a tell-tale sign that the showerhead is coming to life. Looking back down the stairway, the spider transmutes back into a human, his feet softly coming down on the wool carpet. Still safe from the Doberman's hearing, the Watchman steps gently towards the bathroom door. The crashing echo of water splashing off a body can be heard through the walls, it's owner having entered the spray just as Watchman stops at the door.

Transformed into a Doberman, the dog's bark begins to howl at the door, calling desperately for the human as the pet would. Snarling, beckoning, aware that the gate downstairs prevents the owner's pet from blindsiding him, the Watchman revels in delight as what's to come.

"_God damn it, what the FUCK are you doing up here!"_ Impossible to ignore the animal's howling, the showerhead shuts off amidst angry cussing and bitterness. _"Fucking animal, I should've put you down like your brother! Good for nothing piece of shit dog…"_

With a wide smile on his face, the Watchman's body changing from a canine into something far more ancient, certainly far more dangerous.

The knob turns angrily, revealing a naked man with a towel around his waist. Before the screams of terror can enter his lungs, the vision of Jurassic Park enters his brain at the reptilian creature. Standing three feet tall, the Watchman's body now shapes into a Dilophosaurus. Howling with the buzzing mixture of a rattlesnake and a lizard, the skin-like frill around it's neck fans out in anger, from his mouth forks out a purple tongue tinged with venom and saliva. Ignoring the man's fear and alarm, the dinosaur instead spits a blinding venom-like secretion into the drug manger's eyes. Any attempts at wiping away the substance only further aggravates the wounds, causing deep burning sensations and a total blindness in the retinas.

With the Doberman barking downstairs at the sound of the screaming above, the Watchman changes back into a human in order to savor the experience. "Don't touch the venom; it'll only rub it in deeper!" Kicking at the screaming man to try and shut him up, he shouts some more "STOP YELLING! IT WON'T MAKE IT ANY BETTER!"

"FUCK YOU, I CAN'T SEE YOU MANIAC!"

Shaking his head, the Watchman digs into his coat for a pair of angry-looking knives. "That's because you don't want to see what's about to happen to you. Make it easy on yourself and stop screaming or else I'm going to do something to you _worth_ screaming about."

_"The way the man screamed about it, you'd think I'd just amputated his balls. Using those knives of mine, I wanted to do something to him that he'd never be able to atone for. True I could castrate him, shove the dick up his ass, or maybe cut his throat apart like a Thanksgiving turkey but where's the message in all of that? A psychopath kills for pleasure; I only do what I do to send a message. If you should happen to run into that man on the street someday, ask him if his eyes feel any better. Also, if you're gonna go that far, ask him if the scars on his chest still say "I SELL WHITE RABBIT TO KIDS"._

A/N2: Ah, so much drama, so little bloodshed. I've been wanting for Gar to do something psychotic but without being psychotic. So, why not blind a man and then pull a page out of "The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo" and mutilate someone's body into an anti-drug ad? Jake and Ms. Sinclair may seem like mere observers but we'll be seeing them soon, as well as the retaliation from Desade himself. Still, have to give credit where it's due, it's almost as if everyone in the city is following Gar's every move... just like he'd hoped they would.

Trivia:  
>- Arc title: "Cherry Bomb" by the Runaways<br>- Dilophosaurus is the version from the Jurassic Park movies (it really doesn't in real life but in film, GO AHEAD)  
>- The scars at the end are a variation of the "Girl with the Dragon Tattoo" torture scene. Instead of "I am a rapist pig" I changed it to "I sell white rabbit to kids"<p>

Rhetorical:  
>I've given up on not writing Gar narration, I find it fun to write and easy to express his mindset. He's right there about thousands of ways to kill someone... problem is he's only been fighting weaker than he as of late...<p> 


	14. Chapter 14

A/N: This chapter has some moments to it that just make me feel good writing: Violence, suspense, emotion, and humor. Desade's retaliation might not be the world's best but given the earliness of this arc, it'll have to do. And while it might not be the greatest action chapter, given the circumstances, it doesn't need to be long.

**Redux 3: There Goes My Hero**

"Hello North Jump, I'm Your Cherry Bomb…"

Chapter Two:

January 22, 2011:

"_It only took a week to get the Antoine Desade's attention, or at least enough of it to get him pissed off enough to send us some fresh meat. Throughout history, it's the nations who conduct short, decisive campaigns that win wars, never those who protract them. Every great military mind from Sun Tzu to Patton will tell you that striking the right place at the right time wins wars, not by blindly shooting up businesses and drug dens. For all of their enthusiasm in fighting the Desades, the North Jump Hoods were still outnumbered in both cash and manpower and that concerned me. To beat the Desades, we needed Antoine to commit a serious blunder in order to get the ball rolling… We didn't wait long."_

"It's bad _enough_ I have Bryson and his _army_ across the Bay breathing down our necks but now these low-class _scum_ are challenging MY authority in this shithole? If it weren't for me, Bryson and his goons would've had this place under control three years ago!" Smashing his table in frustration, the aging drug lord looks to his two children with fire in his eyes. "And the worst part is they hide like cowards, shooting a few people at a time… and _then_,_ to add insult to injury_, they even _report_ the places they raid to the NJPD! I hate that the entire underworld of this region laughs at us anymore but to have the _goddamn fucking police laugh at us? AT US?_"

"Dad, please, you have to…"

Shutting down Rose's attempt at cooling his temper, he barks with a finger pointed at her "_Don't_ tell me what to do, you ungrateful little bitch! What have you _really_ done for us besides snorting our hard-earned money up your nose?" And before Marin can interject, Antoine turns his bitterness towards his son as well. "Marin, all I ask of you is to keep our holdings _in line…_ that's _all_ I ask… Manage our businesses, keep the dealers in line, and keep these fucking _thugs_ off our back… And what do you do? You FAIL me yet again, Marin, you FUCKING FAIL ME YET AGAIN!"

"Father, that's not goddamn FAIR! For years the North Jump Hoods haven't even attempted to fight our control of this city, not a single time! We didn't expect this kind of action from them; we even thought they'd consider _joining_ with us against Bulletface!"  
>Standing up in a flash, the man's fist goes straight through the table. "We run a large-scale, profit-generating drug ring throughout the city; did you really <em>think<em> we wouldn't have any enemies here? Jesus, Marin, it's the people _closest_ to you that's the biggest threat, NOT the people you expect!"  
>"We're not getting anywhere arguing about this, dad, we need to figure out <em>what<em> we're going to do about it!" Rose steps forward towards her father, daring his rage as she spits the truth back at him. "We aren't happy about this situation either so why don't you stop blaming everyone and let us go kill those motherfuckers!"

"Right," Desade snaps back at his daughter's declaration "and march you both into the hornet's nest. Isn't it obvious to your two morons just _why_ the Hoods are coming after us?"

"Is Bryson or Mao paying them off to get at us? They've been quieter as of late." Marin's suggestion isn't too far off given the lack of Bulletface activity.

Anger subsiding a little, Antoine moves back to his chair "As _easy_ as that situation would be to handle, I'm afraid it's something _far_ worse." Taking his seat again, Antoine informs his two offspring "The way our dealers have been tortured… mutilated… normally I wouldn't have a single _qualm_ about that form of… entertainment… but this is someone who doesn't _like_ us, who probably _hates_ us. Someone who isn't just another bum from the Hoods."

"Who?" both Desade children ask, the look of concern on their father's face tells the tale.

…

From several blocks away, the Watchman peers through binoculars, an earpiece broadcasting their every word into his ear. Whispering to himself in the winter wind, Gar replies _"Me."_  
><em>"We have to strike at the Hoods HQ before he moves in for us. Without those gangbangers, he won't have the manpower to challenge us any further. Get the word out to your Lieutenants; first thing in the morning we're going to attack Macie Street."<em>

"_But that's twelve hours from now, we can't possibly…"_

"_Marin, I don't care if you only get fifty guys, I WANT that street burnt to the fucking ground!"  
>"But what about the Watchman? He might find out about this before we get in position?"<em> Rose's concern sounds less sympathetic towards their men and more towards the vagrant in question.  
><em>"Then he dies with the rest of those poor-house trash. We've indulged him long enough."<em>

Putting down the glasses, the Watchman stands up to his full height. Ignoring the long drop to the pavement below, the vagrant vigilante's body stands stoically like a gargoyle of old on top of the North Jump church. For a moment, he stares at the cartel leader's office with a neutral expression, unbroken as the dark sky above him fills with stars. If the wind weren't so strong, he would look like a statue in both expression and poise. "Twelve hours, Desade. We'll be waiting."

By midnight, the usually quiet Macie Street has come alive with the sound of Hood members moving about the block, helping their neighbors evacuate the street. While the Desades won't come for another six hours, every evacuated civilian is one less potential causality of friendly fire.

"Yes, I said three hunks of shit. We'll need them to barricade the end of the street. Make them as crappy as possible; tow them from the dump if you have to." Hanging up the phone, Bone calls out to another gangster on the roof. "How's the view up there?"

"We got people all over the neighborhood up here, Bone! Anyone Desade that comes down here ain't gonna see us until we put a slug in their heads!"

"Check those radios again, we need a good warning if we're gonna surprise them!"

"All's good, baby, we got this one in the bag."

"I hope so…" Looking behind him, the Watchman approaches from the rear of the street. Hands in his pockets, the former hero looks bitter and ready for a brawl. "We'll have all the residents moved a few hours before show time."

"Sad the newspapers won't report that." Looking towards the rooftops, Gar comments further "All they'll write about is the bloodbath and not the humanity. Most criminals could care less about friendly fire."

Pistol in hand, Bone cracks a grin "Well, we ain't most criminals. Still not sure what that old fool Desade 's thinkin, sendin' some troops in here unannounced. Shit, we might just send them all back alive just to fuck with that freak."

"For the Hoods sake I hope you don't." Meeting Bone's cold eyes with his own, the Watchman declares "Macie Street is your home; it's rude for people to freeload without permission."

"And it'd be rude of us not to show the door. The boys are settin' up some spots in the second floors of the houses but where will you be in all of this? I'd like to see you go totally Dinosaur on their asses."

While normally he'd be flicking his lighter on and off, it's at Bone's proposition that Gar lights up a short cigar. "Trust me, I'd like to. Still, everyone in the Bay Area knows I'm back and if Desade knows I'm helping you, I'm sure everyone else in the cities knows as well. I'd like to remain as normal as possible through all of this."

"Why? You could do some serious damage as an animal out there."

Exhaling the smoke, Gar responds simply "If I fight as an animal, the Hoods gain nothing. As Beast Boy, I'd be the metahuman who won the war for the Hoods… but as the Watchman, as myself, I'm just another person helping the Hoods earn a victory."

Pausing a moment before nodding in quiet agreement, Bone pats Gar on the shoulder at the sound advice. Stepping off with a smile, Bone moves away to inspect his men. In all the wildest places on Earth, it's truly incredible where someone so dangerous could feel so at home.

While the orange glow of streetlamps may fill the sky, it's the approaching crack of daylight that worries the men of the North Jump Hoods more. The area around Macie Street has been quietly evacuated overnight, leaving nothing but Hood members on the streets. The only people who'd dare to approach the area are the ones in the vans heading their way. In less than ten minutes, the mettle of the North Jump Hoods will be tested by the armed guard of the Desades cartel.

Hiding behind a three foot hall brick wall on a house porch, Bone, Gar, and three other Hoods lean with their backs to the street, awaiting the approaching enemy. In a rare show of humanity on Gar's part, he digs into his right jeans pocket to procure a wallet with a few slips of paper inside. No credit or membership cards, only a few reminders of what he fights for. The most prominent of the pieces is a folded up picture of Raven and himself during the concert on Christmas Eve. Seeming so long ago in the past, the picture, taken by an aspiring, young photographer, has the two in each other's arms with tentative smiles on their faces.  
>"Girlfriend?" Bone asks, seeing Gar's eyes soften at the memory.<p>

Hesitant at first, Gar slowly, gently kisses the photograph where Raven had stood."Someday, when this is all over."

Offering a small smile, Bone pats Gar on the shoulder again, telling his associate "We might not live until the end of all this. If we survive this fight, make sure you let her know you care."

Nodding, the younger crimefighter puts his hand on Bone's "Thank you, Bone."

Over the radio, a voice excitedly calls out _"Desade vans in sight. They got five of them and they're splittin' off. Looks like three should come down the front, two in the back."_

"Sixty guys, max. Are those cars ready?"

"_Yeah, Bone, they're in place. Give us the word and they'll burn like Hell."_

Calling out to his comrades around the area, Bone declares "When the cars go up, shoot every Desade motherfucker you see! Fuck 'em up!"

Stopping a block away to hide their presence, the Desade group numbers between fifty and sixty armed gangsters, all brandishing MP5s or various other assault weapons. The noted absence of cars in the area is dismissed as "another work morning" in North Jump, the residents having left early it would seem. Rounding the corner of Macie Street, however, the Desade force finds itself confused and nervous. Only three cars sit by the curbs, not another vehicle is to be found. On top of that, there's a noted lack of sound coming from the houses outside of the usual telephone pole humming.  
>Whispering to his subordinates, the leader orders the men onto the street to begin searching the homes for potential gang members. Unknown to the Desade lieutenant, this decision will become of the bloodiest mistakes of the Desade-Hoods conflict.<br>…

As they advance onto the street from both ends, there's a few shouts back and forth as to where the "enemy" might be hiding. It doesn't take long to figure that answer out. On the rooftops, an unassuming-looking Hood presses down on a detonator button…

BOOM! A fantastic explosion roars through the neighborhood as all three cars explode violently, shrapnel and debris crashing through person and building indiscriminately.  
>"FIRE!"<br>Before Desade's men can understand, a combined volley of nearly one hundred Hood gunmen begins unloading on the hapless goons. In an elaborate ambush, the defenders of Macie Street attack from behind bushes, on front porches, out of second story windows, and even from rooftop, all unloading dozens of rounds of automatic fire into their enemies. Round after round is poured into the Desades, all bearing the hate and contempt of a bitter opponent who would dare take the fight to their home.

Gar joins in with shotgun fire, targeting those few surviving Desades who stand near his hiding spot. Two rounds, three, four… All burning into human flesh and bone.  
>"SUCK ON THIS YOU DRUG-DEALING MOTHERFUCKERS!"<br>"GET THE FUCK OUTTA OUR HOME YOU PIECFES OF SHIT!"

"OH IT'S THE JUGGERNAUT, BITCH!"

Ten o'clock, Pacific Standard Time, and Macie Street is alive with police and EMT services. While the battle has gone the Hoods way, the law enforcement of North Jump City hasn't taken too kindly to having their morning ruined by a small-scale war in their backyard. Unable to haul all the gangsters into custody just yet, they instead gather them in the street, detained until they can sort out the mess. Standing amongst them, surprisingly, is the Watchman. Despite his "no media" policy regarding his mission, these are still his comrades.  
>Stepping onto the crime scene, the Chief of the NJPD passes the caution tape, pointing at the man in the black trench coat. "You! Get your ass over here, RIGHT NOW!" Stone cold expression on his face, Gar steps up to the challenge, rubbing his ear a bit. The older law officer might not be taller than the vigilante but height doesn't always make right. "I hope you appreciate everything you've done to our side of the Bay. Thanks to you, we've had to spend the last three hours explaining to the media how a small argument between the Desades and the Hoods suddenly turned into massacre! The ONLY reason I don't put all of you in jail right now is because someone in Washington thinks this was all self-defense!"<p>

Eyebrow rising at the city name-drop, Gar dares the Chief in asking "What else could it be?"

Backhanding Gar across the mouth, the Chief warns "Don't you speak, you little punk! D.C. might've gotten your ass out of the fire this time but if you keep this little war of your's going, I'll drown your ass in the Pacific myself!"

Expression turning to irritation, Gar asks bluntly "Is that a threat, officer?"

Leaning up to Gar's face, the NJPD leader warns "It certainly is."

Not shirking from the officer's move, the animalistic competitor side in Gar feels more alive than usual. "Then you better threaten someone _weaker_, officer. If you don't want a corruption charge brought against you, I'd suggest threatening the Desades some more."

Taken back by his flagrant disregard for the law, the Chief howls "How DARE you accuse me of…"

Taking out his earpiece, the device that's been recording all this time, Gar hands it to the officer "Since you don't understand, you can let _her_ tell you."

Carefully, scared a bit, the police officer listens unaware that Amanda Waller doesn't enjoy being disturbed this early in the day. _"Chief Dunphy, I hear you've been harassing one of my field agents…"_

"You're that woman who called me earlier!"

"_If I were you, Chief, I'd be more worried about your present actions than my identity. Should I hear another case of police intimidation regarding my agent and the other concerned residents of North Jump, I'll be sure to release a few papers to the Attorney General's office. I'm sure we wouldn't want to sure those little Filipino boys in court."_

Surprise and shock on his face, the Chief quickly shakes off the insult, pleading "I understand anything to help out the local anti-drug movement. This will not be happening again."

"_Very well. Hand the young man back his earpiece, now."_

Taking the piece out of the officer's hand, Gar steps away from the lawman to join his crew. _"Watchman"_

"Yes?"

"_Next time you decide to butcher Desade henchmen, do it away from a crowded neighborhood. Don't let this happen again."_

"Understood. Thank you."

~~~

A/N2: Ah, another chapter in the books. We see the Desade family again (hints of the future to come) and we get to see the Hoods starting to gain some combat experience in yet another setback for the drug cartel. Gar's role in the Bay Area has gone from city-sponsored hero to something of an advisor sent from Washington. He helps the Hoods but, as he said, he can't "win" it for them or they'd never earn freedom for themselves. By the way, the part about him looking and kissing the Raven picture came entirely from Gar (not me) so I find that really nice for him to let his guard down a little bit.

Trivia:  
>- "You fail me yet again" spontaneous quote of mine from Megatron.<br>- "I'm the Juggernaut Bitch" is from MyWay's hilarious X-Men spoof.  
>- You always hear about Filipino boys being used as sex slaves to rich people... why, I don't know.<p>

Rhetorical:  
>No, Gar isn't some untouchable being... but it does say something about his wits to have the whole city onto his act and yet still remain a ghost of sorts.<p> 


	15. Chapter 15

A/N: Boy do I have a ton on my plate lately (LOTS of projects, film and writing wise, plus a ton of personal issues.) I felt a breather chapter was in order although it has a big plot twist at the end. This chapter is meant to set up the middle of the arc, rather the vibe that the opening shots are done and that forward progress can begin. Still hate writing "name" DC characters, you'll see why below.**  
><strong>

**Redux 3: There Goes My Hero**

"Hello North Jump, I'm Your Cherry Bomb…"

Chapter Three:

January 29, 2011:

_"While the media ate up all of our recent accomplishments in combat, they missed a bigger opportunity to combat the Desades: We were helping those affected by the drug get cleaned up. By the night of the 29th, we'd successfully found and helped enter twenty-three former Rabbitheads find treatment at local clinics. Bone didn't understand at first what I meant in winning "Hearts and Minds" as the government would call it. Beyond military action, what good is getting support on your side if all you do is fight? War is more than fighting; mostly it's won than politics and PR._

_Unlike the Hoods, I could sympathize with Rabbitheads, no matter how harshly society chose to. Billions of people will never know what it's like to claw at your face, screaming for someone to pull the rabbit out of your brain. They'd never know what it felt like to see your dead relative rise from their graves, their throats slashed open, begging for the pain to cease… No, they'd look down on the Rabbitheads with contempt, blaming them for their own problems instead of understanding just how addictive the compound is for your brain._

_Considering the thousands of hooked residents in the Bay Area, twenty-three sounds like so small a number in the big picture. However, for every one you help, you can earn the trust and assistance of ten more. If ten each were helping us, we would've recruited two hundred and thirty to back our cause. Could Desade claim to have the people's intentions in his heart when he was too busy keeping them hooked on the dust? Once the Bay Area politicians understood, Desade would be crushed in days… but there still much to be done."_

* * *

><p>"… <em>all I'm saying is that the question in North Jump City remains: Should the recent gangland violence be dealt with on a federal level since it's obvious the city's police forces can't contain it? In two weeks we've seen more bloodshed than in three months and it's all because…"<em>

"_Instead of looking at the symptoms, we should look at the cause of the crisis. The North Jump Hoods are doing what the NJPD hasn't been able to do in years: They're taking the fight to the White Rabbit pushers. If the NJPD's estimates are accurate then the city could see a major decline in the drug's use."_

"_And all for the better, that much we can agree on, but is this a benefit the Bay Area could afford? If the bloodshed continues for weeks, even months, we could see hundreds of criminals AND civilians killed in the crossfire."_

"_That's a fear tactic used by the government since drugs became a national issue. Everyone claims that stopping the drug cartels will result in innocent victims being gunned down. However, the media hasn't stressed enough that not only were NO bystanders injured in the Macie Street attack but the Hoods went out of their way to ensure their safety. If we followed your idea of how to solve this problem, you'd wipe out both sides, including those brave residents who are taking steps to…"_

"_Those residents should hardly be called brave or anything else in a positive light. Sure, they evacuated their neighborhood, but if they hadn't stockpiled a large arsenal of automatic weapons, illegal weapons that is, then perhaps this shootout wouldn't have happened."_

"_I agree that having so large an arsenal is a threat but the cartels have weapons of their own. Need I remind you, as you claim to be a patriot at heart, that having weapons are protected under our Second Amendment?"_

"_Self-defense, yes; the right to bare arms, yes; but illegally acquired assault rifles; no sir, those should not be allowed. You're avoiding the greater issue here, something you've conveniently left out of your previous argument. Up until the end of December, the North Jump Hoods were a relatively small and minor annoyance to the Bay Area. Now, seemingly out of the blue, they seem to be conducting activities with military-like precision. I challenge you to explain just how a small, ragtag gathering of residents can suddenly go from local thugs into an armed resistance?"_

Watching the television with rapt attention, her herbal tea cold on the table, the part-time Titan Raven listens to the debate. Both sides present an honest appraisal of the situation although the conservative speaker seems to be openly biased against the North Jump population. If there's one point to be made, however obviously bitter, is that he's correct in his suspicion of the Hoods operations. Before Gar they were indeed a small gang of hoods and thugs… Now they've dealt Desade numerous setbacks and losses in what's really a quick amount of time.  
>Pulling her attention from the screen is the sound of a knock at her door. A glance at the clock, seven minutes after seven, she steps up to answer the door. With the bolts undone, she opens the door to a much unexpected sight…<p>

* * *

><p>In the living room of Bone's home on Macie Street, Watchman, Bone, and several Hood leaders sit around the table, scanning Gar's map of Desade locations, plotting their next move. There's no shortage of beer, "tobacco", and firepower at this meeting but there's no parties to be had tonight.<br>"You were right about the docks, Watchman. I talked to some of our guys in the port and they said there's more Desades guarding the pier than we could field in an all-out attack. Fuck, I gotta say man; they ain't gonna give up their lifeline that easily."

Tapping the port with a pen, the vigilante reminds the Hood leader "They'll probably fight to the last man to keep the ships coming through. White Rabbit's their entire empire so they can't afford to let us seize their primary way of transportation."

One of the Hoods suggests with a tap on the map "So if we take these motherfuckers while they're movin' the goods, we'd have a better shot."

Looking to his counterpart, Watchman offers a slight grin at the idea "We're learning everyday, aren't we? Don't even need books or a blackboard."

Swallowing a bit of beer, Bone nods with a grin of his own. "Shit, give us another month and we won't even _need_ you."

"_Thanks_." Taking the joke in stride, Gar casually remarks "Taking them out in transport should be our next goal. They've stepped up security at their smaller depots and their leaders are keeping their movements quiet." Looking on the map for another avenue, Gar forsakes the beer for a small flask full of brown whiskey. "If we take out their trucks, we'll starve the Desades into surrender."

"And North Jump will be under our control? Hell yeah."

Allowing the Hood's optimism, Gar proposes "The sooner we stop the Desades, the less likely Bulletface and the Triads will come to their aid. Don't forget, they were in business together for a _long_ time."

Outside, the sound of screeching brakes and startled voices interrupts the planning. In an instant, the gathered assembly bolt for the door, looking for what should be an incoming…

"WHERE THE FUCK IS THE WATCHMAN! I KNOW HE'S THERE!"

"Who the fuck is this bitch?" Bone's about to step down from the porch but Watchman keeps him back. "You know this bitch?'

Her attire is a bit roughed up; scratches and what looks like dirt are all over her Goth/Punk attire. With trussed up hair and breathe reeking of some foul liquor, T&P hollers again 'WHERE'S THAT SOMBITCH WATCHMAN!"

"T&P! What the hell are you doing here? Don't you know where you are?" Jumping down to face the infamous local villain, Watchman reels a bit at the booze smell. "Damn, woman, you run into Old E out there?"

Staggering up to the tall figure, she barks out with some obvious lack of grammar "I got into a _fight_, asshole! And NO, it's not malt liquor, fuckface, it's called _Tequila! You'd_ be in a bad mood too if your tattoo shop got robbed!"

Back up, what? "Tattoo shop? TP, what the hell's wrong with you? And why are you even _driving_, you can barely stand up!"

"We got robbed today… and I got pissed… and I got into a fight… at the bar, right? And… I don't feel so good…"

Snapping a look back at Bone, Gar asks "Bone, hate to ask but…?"

"She's cool, right? I don't want her fuckin' up my house!"

"Desade tried to shoot up your house last week, you moron! Do you think a little vomit's gonna ruin it?"

Given a half hour of carrying, walking, and waiting by the toilet bowl, Gar and T&P finally have a moment of clarity after the booze ejects from her throat. Bone can be heard bitching about "crazy fucked up white women" while Watchman can't help but laugh at the situation. A month ago, he had just sparked up a small relationship with Raven. Now, he's busy trying to keep a drunken torturer from falling into the head.  
>"Ok, TP, tell me what happened. <em>Who<em> robbed _what_, I can't read your mind."

Coughing, trying to get some air from the partially-opened bathroom window, T&P slurs out "Remember around Christmas when Livewire and I fought that big ugly Hulk-looking guy?"  
>This can't end good. "General Eiling, I remember."<p>

"Yeah, well, Madame Stick-up-my-Ass told us to get out of the group. She said "What's the point of trying to form a criminal syndicate when all we do is chase after some psychopath homeless boy in a trench coat?" I told her to get her mind out of her…"

Cutting her off before that comment gets too far, Gar asks "Was it worth staying with her if you couldn't make your own decisions?"

"Fuck her, we don't need that no good whore cu… (hiccup)… I hate being sick…"

"Then what happened? Who robbed you?"

Wiping away some drool, T&P waves her hand around "I was GETTING to that! See, I'm not the office bitch type, I can do tattoos and piercing, no shit T&P that's what your NAME IS!"

Shaking her to focus, Gar asks again 'WHO ROBBED YOU?"  
>"Some druggie with a knife! I didn't have my tattoo gun on me… he came in and said "GIVE ME THE MONEY OR I'LL GIVE YOU ALL AIDS!" or some shit like that. Fuck, it's hot in here! Oh, did I tell you WHERE the place was? It's funny because the guy's a trip, spells the place with wavy letter's like "CrAzYmAn'S" or something like that… Can you open that window?"<p>

"Ok, Crazyman's Tattoo shop… I can go down there and look at the security camera and find out who did this." It takes a moment before Gar sees what she's doing. "And DON'T take your shirt off, not here."

Something obvious changes in her tone, something that's not helping at the moment. "But I'm _roasting_ in here… and, well, Rouge kicked me out _because_ someone had to be a badass and…"

"BONE!"

If handling a drunken woman in a car wasn't bad enough, the phone conversation between Jake and Gar was even worse. People don't like waking up to the sound of a person asking for help in a robbery, especially when said private investigator's getting his first night sleep in two days. Still, the night drags on and T&P's car isn't the best vehicle for someone who doesn't legally drive.

* * *

><p>Hours earlier, Raven stands at the doorway, looking into the eyes of two very famous, very dangerous individuals.<p>

"Hello Ms. Roth, is this a bad time?"

When confronted by Gotham's Dark Knight and the last son of Krypton, it's very rude to tell them to leave because it's the seven o'clock news. "Inside, I don't want to attract any more attention."

Without a word the two comply, stepping into the living room. "Mind if we have a seat? It's been a long flight."

Dryly sarcastic, the empathy can feel the tension building in the air "Go ahead. Anyone want coffee?"

"No thanks."

"Cream please."

Stepping into the kitchen, Raven calls out "This coffee wasn't meant for me so I apologize if it's too strong."

"Not a problem." Superman takes a look around the room while Batman keeps his stern, ice-cold stare at the location. Not that long ago, there was a certain vigilante sitting in the very seat he's resting in.

Moments later the woman returns with three cups of coffee, a surprise on her part given her usual preference for tea. "You're not here for anything _Titan_-related, are you?"

"We're not. I don't think you need to use your mind-reading abilities to guess why we're here."

"Watchman, that's what this is all about, right?"

"Yes." While Superman takes in the caffeine, Batman goes to work. "He's been missing since the Christmas Day Protest last month. Have you heard from him lately?"

For all of Superman's attempts at being polite, it's Batman's blatant obscure motive that irks her very being. "Wouldn't your wiretap be enough to tell you he's been gone for a month? I'm sure my phone calls are monitored just as my communicator is for the Titans."

Batman's eyes glare even sharper but Superman interjects "We don't use wiretaps or any other listening devices on friends of the Justice League. We're worried that the Watchman may have gone too far. With North Jump becoming a hotspot of violent conflict…"

"I thought the Bay Area was a non-Justice League area? If I recall, hasn't the League pledged to stay out of the Bay Area so that the Titans could expand its capabilities?" Garfield was right about Batman, he has an incredibly fine tuned ability to rile up even the calmest of souls.

"Raven, we believe he's gone over the edge on this one. The Justice League agreed to stay out of matters relating to the Bay Area but he's using his powers and skills we've taught him to provoke a gang war. If he doesn't end this conflict, he could wind up killing more people."

"_And get innocent people caught in the crossfire_, I've heard the story more than enough."

"Your file states you don't get emotional that easy, Raven." Batman bluntly points out some intentional blackmail, a fact that Superman gasps at in surprise. This situation is breaking down too quickly for the Man of Steel's taste but Batman will have none of it. "As far as I'm concerned, if you're withholding his location out of personal loyalty, you're another accomplice in any murders he commits."

"And since when did personal liberties become _your_ area of expertise? What will you do if I _don't_ listen to you, you'll withhold my mail? Put me into a solitary cell?" Standing up with her eyes coming to life with dark energy, Raven practically barks at the Batman "And you come into _my_ house telling _me_ that I should give up a man _you_ punished just because YOU'RE BATMAN?"

Standing up to separate the two, Superman pushes Batman and Raven apart "That's enough, both of you. I'm sorry this had to come to this, Raven, but we need your help. If Watchman's really gone rogue, we can't rely on him to help us. The whole reason we had Question train Watchman was so that he could act as our agent _inside_ Titan territory. We needed him to take care of the problems Nightwing's team wouldn't."

"And it's ruined his LIFE, can't you see that? He was never this cruel, never this _sadistic_!" Sparks turning into tiny droplets, she's startled at the sudden change in emotional center. "If you just would've understood, he wouldn't have come out of prison so broken inside. Don't you get it? He doesn't expect to _live_ after all of this!"

"Which is why we need your help, now more than ever. You can help the League put a stop to this before it gets out of control."

Looking at Batman with surprise at his lack of coolness, the tone sounding more softer than before, she asks him simply "What are you getting at?"

"The League needs someone on the inside who can help in situations where the Titans can't. Right now we believe Watchman's gone over the edge and into his own agenda."

"You have the maturity and abilities most people you age won't develop for years. The League needs strong-willed people like you, Raven, and that's why we're going to offer this position."

Raven appears stunned to say the least. First these two famous superheroes try to blackmail Gar's whereabouts and now they're offering a _job_? What's _with_ these people? "You want me to _work_ for you? Are you serious?"

"As a part-time Justice Leaguer, you won't need to report to the Watchtower. All you'll be asked to do is fight crime in the Bay Area and help the city when necessary. If the Watchman's goal is to overthrow organized crime then we need someone here who can handle organized metahuman syndicates as well."

Trying to center her emotions is difficult given the rollercoaster of a situation. But, if what Superman is saying is true, then she's been asked to do what Gar's doing to the cartels. "I don't kill people, Superman. I can overthrow the Illuminati and Madame Rouge without killing people!"

"We aren't asking you to." Batman assures her with the notion of a no-kill clause. "We need someone with a moral center now that Watchman's gone rogue. We'd like to do this low-key so that the city doesn't have another vigilante issue to worry about. Right now, you're the best candidate to do just that."

Observing their expressions, for what it's worth, she doesn't sense any form of malicious intent in their emotions but this is still a huge responsibility. "If I do this, I can't be a Titan any longer. Nightwing would never allow it, especially when it involves working with you, Batman."

"It's a hard choice but millions of lives are at stake. You'll wake the right decision like you've always have."

... "If it helps remove the Illuminati and the other metahumans… I don't think I have a choice anymore. How should we proceed from here?"

* * *

><p>AN2: God I hate writing Batman and Superman (they feel out of my league, pardon the pun, in that they're real literary works while this is just a basic fanfiction.) So, Raven's a "part-time Leaguer" while Garfield's about to deal with a problem at T&P's sort-of request. There's lots of little, subtle stuff going on in this chapter (from news debates to small-mentioned things). It's gonna get fun.

Trivia:  
>- Old English malt liquor is a shoutout to this story's major collaborator (John "the Baptist")<br>- Is it me or do my stories have LOTS of drunken people?  
>- I think this is the first time Gar's driven in any of my stories.<p>

Rhetorical:  
>Feels like the North Jump Hoods aren't just "bangers" anymore... problem is when you get some confidence, people are always ready to knock you back down.<p> 


	16. Chapter 16

A/N: This almost feels like a chapter from Draft One (radio references, in-story references, action, sarcastic humor) but it's ending is something that's very Draft Three (and personally bittersweet to write.) This is a micro-look at the Hood-Desade war, a sort of "dumb luck" and "dumb people" meeting in one location. There's an Arkham reference in this chap, points to whomever finds it first.

**Redux 3: There Goes My Hero**

"Hello North Jump, I'm Your Cherry Bomb…"

Chapter Four:

January 30, 2011:

"… _rumored to be on tour for their upcoming album, set to be released next month. In local news, the Sons of Rancid biker club is reportedly under investigation for the recent murder of two local Hell's Angels members during that riot at The Tavern in Berkeley. Police have reported that the club's leader, the Jump City villain "Johnny Rancid" is believed to have…"  
><em>A tender hand smacks the top of the alarm clock, cutting off the morning news with a thump. More pressing than the surprise sound of the radio is the splitting headache running down T&P's skull. A quick glance to her left reveals something she hadn't arranged when she got home: A curious display of two aspirins and a bottle of blue-colored G2 Gatorade. If she was surprised by the morning-after treatment, it's lost on her as the fluid and the pills are quickly downed into her stomach with due haste. Still reeling from the hangover, the weary-looking criminal mutters to herself "Why did I go for Tequila?"

If the sight of a drink and pills went over her head, the sound of the TV downstairs doesn't. Was it on when she got home or is someone _in the house_? Sliding out of bed, snatching her tattoo gun from the bureau, she steps gingerly down the hallway, uncaring that's she's one layer of clothes away from nakedness. Easing around the corner, looking down the stairwell, she can hear the news being broadcasted on her television in the kitchen. Whoever's here must not care about being found out.  
>Down the steps, she takes the final corner before looking into the kitchen. Faint sounds of a bowl scraping, the tell-tale sign that someone's <em>eating<em> in her house without permission. Poking the gun in first, she shouts out "HANDS UP, MOTHERFUCKER!"

Unfazed, the vagrant Watchman looks almost blasé about having a gun aimed in his direction. In fact, he takes a moment to scoop some beans and beef frank cuts into his mouth. "About time you woke up."  
>"What the fuck are you doing in <em>my<em> house! I thought you were a goddamn burglar or something!" Approaching him with some quick steps, she smacks him upside the head. "Creep."

Rubbing at his long hair slightly, Gar points out bluntly "It's not polite to hit someone who drove you home last night. It's one thing to hit someone when you're drunk but not with a hangover." Changing the topic, he points out "Besides, the news is on."

"Fuck the news! Answer the question, why are you _here_?"

Still unnerved and feeling at ease, the vigilante responds bluntly once more. "You were the one who almost crashed into Bone's house screaming for me. Not to mention I had to drag you into the bathroom of his house, which was vomited on, then had to drive _for the first time_. It wasn't easy getting you in this house when everyone could hear you singing "TNT" on the lawn."

Startled by the account, she takes a moment to think of a response. "Huh, _I_ sang that? Wow, I haven't heard that song in years."

"I could tell, you butchered the chorus. How's your head?"

Turning off the TV, she bitterly comments 'Still feels like there's an axe in my brain. I learned my lesson: Never drink Tequila again."

"Heard that before. Well, since that headache's not going to go away from a few drops of energy drinks, are you up for breakfast?" Sincere as can be, the crimefighter might be shorter than her in the chair but looks can be deceiving. "Besides, we have some issues to discuss."

* * *

><p>Like many of the Bay Area's diners, the place is crowded for the Sunday rush. Church might not be out for another two hours but those who don't follow the faith still crowd the small eatery, unaware that two Bay Area criminals happen to be in their midst.<br>Sitting in a booth to the rear of the subway-shaped diner, T&P sits with her back to the wall, keeping and eye on the place while Gar takes a few bites out of some wheat toast.

"I don't know how you avoided eating animal products all your life, Gar. I'm not really fond of killing animals but scrambled eggs _do_ help with hangovers."

"I never said I didn't _like_ the taste of meat and other animals, only I didn't approve of the methods. When you've walked in the skin of most animals, you come to appreciate them for more than just calories and protein."

Nodding and chewing some ketchup-covered eggs, she points out simply "But eating vegetables is ok? It's been proven that plants have feelings."

"Take it from someone who's met "Mother Nature", she's a bigger hypocrite than you and I put together. Plants _can_ have feelings but animals _earned_ their right to evolve. Humans are merely animals so while it's hard to accept eating your fellow animal, eating a lower-form of life is fine by me."

Eyeing up the vagrant with a mixture of contemplation and curiosity, T&P ventures a guess. "You don't like plants I take it?"

His green eyes looking a bit emptier than before, Gar points out a cold fact. "Plants don't scream when you kill them."  
>Nervousness at that chilly expression, the goth rocker offers to clear the air. "Heh, yeah, I guess. Hey, let's change the topic, alright? What did you mean we had "issues" to clear us?"<br>Lightening up himself, Gar sits upright in his seat, wiping away breadcrumbs from his mouth. "The robbery at the tattoo shop last night and who's responsible. I've asked an associate of mine to look into it, see who was dumb enough to rob one of my friend's businesses."  
>"He wasn't a Hood or another gang member, I can remember that much. Believe it or not, I think he was just another crazy hobo…"<p>

Cracking a grin, the Watchman asks "So you were outsmarted by a drunken wino? All that evil in your mind and you couldn't even stop a drunk?"

Flipping him the bird, the woman declares in defiance "A drunken hobo with a knife who happened to catch me away from my tattoo gun. If I had my weapon, he wouldn't have made it out of the store. Speaking of the robbery, why did you use a contact? I thought something like that was a police matter?"

Over his shoulder, Gar points out the table with the four female police officers. Oblivious to the pair of criminals, they pass the time waiting for their food with whole-hearted chatter. "Because that wasn't a normal tattoo shop. I don't think the owner would like badges walking around his store, right?"

Keeping a discrete eye on the cops herself, T&P agrees with his statement. "We aren't running anything _that_ bad out of the shop but the owner is the paranoid type… Hey, Gar, thanks for doing this by the way." Eyes looking down a bit, the woman may project a fierce punk/goth metal rocker look but this is coming from the heart, not the ego. "Normally I'd look for the guy myself but it's been rough lately, being fired and all."

"You can thank me when we catch the man who robbed your store. In the meantime, if you need work, we could use someone with your _talents_ with the Hoods. You helped me when I came back to the city, now it's time I help you."

Without a chance to reply, the sound of violent gunfire roars throughout the building. Glass, plates, coats, dishes, everything not nailed down is thrown around as nearly ten different automatic weapons burst into the diner. Screaming and terrific sounds of chaos stir throughout the patrons, most of them getting to the ground while others aren't so lucky. At the sound of the gunfire, the crimefighter in Gar comes alive, pulling T&P out of the table and onto the floor. Hellacious volleys of assorted bullets rain throughout the business, multiple bodies of injuried and dying victims line the floors.  
>"What the fuck's going on?" T&amp;P's words register in Gar's mind but the Watchman demands action, not to mention targets to shoot at.<br>Crawling along the floor, over wounded bodies and panicked customers, Gar finally arrives at the front of the service entry as the bullets stop firing.  
><em>"You in the restaurant! Watchman, we know you're in there! Antoine Desade wants a word with you!"<em> Whoever's calling out the demands sure is a stupid fuck, giving away the boss's name so easily. _"You have thirty seconds to come out or we'll come in there and execute EVERY one of you!"_

"Who are they talking about? Who the hell is the Watchman?" one customer blurts out, shaking in her shoes as blood slowly crawls towards her from another victim.

"We have to get out of here!"

"NOBODY MOVE!" Gar's shout of warning stems the fear just a little bit, enough to catch the police officers' attention. While one of their own lies on the ground, writhing in pain from a gunshot, they call out to the vigilante. "Watchman! Where are you?"

"T&P!" the Watchman howls out, needing time to prepare a little surprise.

"On it!" Jumping up to face the gunmen waiting outside, the part-time villain takes aim with her tattoo gun and fires several shots. While most miss, the last one finds itself slicing through one of the assassin's throat, blocking off the airway and rendering his nerves ineffective. Dropping below, T&P snaps her fingers at the police. Mouthing her words, she asks _"Cover the windows, ok?"_

Nodding, the three officers shimmy to each right side windows, arming their weapons carefully. This might not be the best place for officers on the beat but this isn't the time to argue about job assignments.

In the back room, Gar finds a blonde-haired waitress on the floor, her hands covering each ear while her breathing comes hard and fast, much like a panic attack. "Miss," his voice quiets to a whisper in order to avoid detection "I need you to get up. Get me some empty sugar jars and some cooking grease."

Stammering at first, her mind can't register the words correctly. "but..but… if, if I…"

Shaking her shoulders, the Watchman asks. "What's your name?"

"St…Stephanie…"

"Stephanie, I need you to do this. The officers can give us a moment or two but if you can't help me, I can't help _anyone_. You can do this."  
>Nodding, shaken but not entirely lost in shock, she agrees and moves throughout, looking for anything useful in the kitchen. Rubbing his hands, Gar prepares to do something that he'd never thought he'd have to do.<p>

_"Your time's up! You had your chance, Watchman! Now you're gonna watch as we kill EVERYONE inside!"_

Before the criminals can step too far, three police pistols and a needle gun answer their advance, scattering the men once again, buying the vigilante a few moments to prepare. However, despite the police and mystery gunmen inside, the Desades will not relent. Ignoring the radio scanner coming alive for police backup, they continue to spread around the building, looking for the right avenue of attack… Amateurs.

"Thank you, Stephanie. Now, get in the back and hide. Don't come out until the police come, alright?" Armed with three jars filled with cooking grease, the Desade hitmen are about to find out just how dangerous this vigilante can be.

"Backup's on their way! Everybody sit tight and DON'T move!" The policewoman's voice is enough to keep some of the more frightened customers quiet even as the injured fight against the pain of their wounds. T&P uses the time to move form window to window, looking for a better place to snipe from. What both sides realize, however, is that while the diner might be defended, the officers inside don't have access to more than a pair of clips at a time. For all of her weapon's lethality, T&P's needles can't hold back eight people for much longer.

Stepping out of the kitchen, a flaming jar in each hand, Gar shouts out to the surprise of everyone around him. "Alright, I'm coming out! You don't have to be such a _hothead_ about it!" Sprinting up to the window, defying the danger of the growing fire in his hands, the Watchman hurls out both makeshift Molotov Cocktails, startling the gunmen as the fire comes down. Two of the shooters are caught before they can run back to their cars, the burning grease oil impacts their legs, shooting flames of orange heat up their pants. Howling in agony, they try to drop and roll but to little avail. "How about a _light_?" Using his lighter to start the final grenade, Gar takes aim at one of the pair of vehicles out front. Actually daring to sing, if not mockingly, Gar calls out "Oooh, me soul on fire! Feelin' HOT HOT HOT!"

As the third incendiary bomb hits a car, one of the officers slides down the fallen cop's pistol. Accepting it, though not dropping down to a crouch, the Watchman takes aims at the attackers with the weapon. T&P and NJPD's finest target the retreating would-be attackers and open fire. Two are killed when the undamaged car's driver takes a bullet to the skull with his associate being hit in the neck right afterwards. A third is gunned down in the spine when he tries to take off down the street, a well-placed shot by the NJPD officer enough to cut off that attempt. For the three that do escape the bullets, they find themselves trapped in a crossfire as other beat cops from the area arrive in force. One is killed while trying to fire on their advance while the other two have their legs shot out from under them, their weapons not a factor out of their hands.

* * *

><p>"… <em>just an incredible tale of heroism and courage early this morning. As the Sunday rush began at this simple diner in North Jump, the business was attacked by armed gunmen tied to the Desades drug cartel. Inside, five people, including one of the four officers dining there, were killed in the attack and six more were reported injured. The North Jump Police Department is calling this one of North Jump's most violent bloodbaths not only in the city but in the Bay Area in general. There were reports that the Desades gunmen were trying to confront the vigilante known as the "Watchman" who was reportedly on location at the time.<em>

_For months the North Jump Police Department has taken a harsh stance on the Watchman's activities, going as far as to declare his involvement in the Desades-Hoods "a dangerous threat to the Bay Area". However, according to the NJPD officers inside the diner at the time of the shootings, the Watchman acted in defense of the patrons and helped fight off the bloody attack. An employee of the business told reporters that despite the Watchman's violent reputation, he was nothing less than "heroic" in dealing with the terrified customers._

_While no official word has come from the Chief of Police's office, the aggressive nature of the assault coupled with the Watchman's commitment to working with police officials has created a stir throughout the city's government leaders. This afternoon one councilman called for tougher action against the Desades, announcing "Even with all the criticism and allegations against him, the Watchman continues to do what years of police efforts have not: Take the fight against those drug peddlers and violent criminals. While his actions are still violating the law, we cannot deny that his heroic actions today may have saved the lives of countless more. For that, he deserves our gratitude AND respect."_

* * *

><p>While the news may sing Gar's praises, the reality of the fight is far more brutal for the vigilante than the media will know. In T&amp;P's bathroom, Gar's busy soaking his burned hands in the sink, hissing as the burned flesh stings with pain as the water makes contact with his skin. There's no council members, no police officials, and certainly no media jackals there detailing just how harsh it can be when your mind replays the image of burning gunmen outside of a savagely wrecked eatery.<p>

As he hands soak in the sink, he leans his head against the cool marble and closes his eyes. Body tensing up and shaking, he'd gladly jack up the pain in his hands if the memories of the bloody victims would go away… "Five for eight… 62%... Not even a drop in the bucket next to Desade's forces…"

While the homeless hero rests on the bathroom sink, T&P enters with a bottle of Jameson in one hand and a pair of shotglasses in the other. No words need be spoken, no praise or criticism is necessary here. As Gar's eyes open, they make contact with T&P's black-eyed contacts, seeing the look of emptiness he's seen in the mirror all too often. Pouring the liquor into the two pony glasses, the offers him the glass like a mother to a newborn… Whiskey can't cure everything but maybe it'll cure the day's memory for both.

* * *

><p>AN2: Fun chapter to write (and has a LOT of odd feelings for me writing it.) Gar's "dumb luck" in having police in the diner matches the "dumb people" of Desade goons trying to make a name for themsevles as it were. Don't forget, Gar's public enemy #1 for the Desades, I'm sure they would know where he is once in awhile (he's over six feet tall and built like a rock, they don't make people like that often.)

Trivia:  
>- The radio in the beginning is a tribute to 107.7 "The Bone" and Johnny Rancid of Teen Titan's fame. I could see him leading a biker gang (although I must admit I hated the whole demon arc regarding his powers)<br>- "TNT" from AC/DC  
>- This is a personal reference in my own life. The diner is based on "Bob's Diner", a small diner in my native Philadelphia. The waitress and police officers were from a time I was there for breakfast, thought they'd make a good plot device (as Gar does go to diners often in this Draft.)<br>- While grease bombs take time to heat up, I figure Gar has a lot of experience now in making weapons.

Rhetorical:  
>Didn't expect the somber end, did you? It came entirely naturally, as it seems Gar's always on the losing schitck even if he wins. Is T&amp;P and Gar leading to something? Given his history, I'd say so, but I don't see it being a GarKris or Gar/Jinx sort of thing.


	17. Chapter 17

A/N: What a weird month and a half. I've been through everything from a free Rob Zombie/Megadeth concert to a near-fatal car crash to a nearly 2000 mile driving spree in four weeks to a near nervous breakdown and everywhere in between... This chapter feels rusty although it's in line with where I'm going. The "war" is shifting, the Hoods and the Desades can't survive in just fighting each other in streets. So, the war starts to "expand" as it were, bringing in people from both sides.

**Redux 3: There Goes My Hero**

"Hello North Jump, I'm Your Cherry Bomb…"

Chapter Four:

February 7, 2011:

With a soft snow beginning to fall on the Bay Area come the promise of yet another cold, bitter day for the region. While winters in the California area may be short and somewhat mild, this year's has been unusually chilly, catching many of the residents off guard as it were. For those living in the skyscrapers of Downtown Jump City or the thousands of middle-class apartments, all it takes is a twist of the thermostat to chase winter's icy air away. In the city of slums, North Jump City, there's many who can admit solemnly to have never been in a home that possessed a luxury like indoor heat. It doesn't take a rocket scientist to notice the poverty plaguing the city, a quick glance at the burning oil drums and near-frostbitten homeless is proof enough.

Along a busy street in North Jump, stores stay open for business, unafraid of a few falling flurries in the air. In one said shop, several members of the North Jump Hoods keep watch over their front, eyes alert for any Desades but their bodies shiver with the elements. A few sips from a flask might help raise their body temperatures but probably wouldn't be too good for the focus needed to maintain watch. The last thing the group needs is a Desade raid while three Hoods were passed out while guarding a drug den.

While the North Jump Hoods may have taken a stand against White Rabbit, there was no mention of a _total_war on drugs themselves. In an age of availability of both drugs and firearms, he who can keep the supply flowing often dictates who calls the shots. Whether that "supply" comes from cocaine, crack, marijuana, or other illicit substances doesn't concern Bone, having a supply that can mentally and emotionally destroy a potential customer is out of the question. For the residents and pedestrians of this simple urban street, however, their winter day is about to be violently shattered.

As one of the men steps outside for a smoke, an unmarked white van screeches sharply to a stop, several cars behind it spin out or barely avoid colliding with other vehicles. Before the Hood can throw his cigarette, the van's side door opens, revealing a man with a black ski mask inside aiming an RPG-7.  
>Raising his gun, the Hood manages to shout one insult at the attacker although his words are deafened by the screaming of fleeing civilians.<p>

With a bang, the rocket-propelled grenade blasts off at the building, nearly hitting the guard, and breaks through the front window. Impacting somewhere between the mid-point of the building, the explosive round detonates, reducing the gang business-front to ash and smoking rubble. The building remains standing, although severely damaged. Debris ejects out from the blast, certainly killing anyone inside and above the detonation. Before the situation can be fully grasped, the white van closes it's door and speeds off into the unknown, leaving horrified residents searching for answers.

* * *

><p>On the other side of North Jump, around the same time as the RPG attack, another Hood business, a car chop shop, finds itself on the verge of an attack. While the phone in the office rings, no doubt a warning from Bone, the Hoods are scrambling to defend themselves from an onslaught of thirty Desade gunmen. Two grenades are thrown into the open garage doors, destroying a handful of chopped cars and killing several Hood mechanics. Gunfire ensues in a hellish display of criminal warfare, both sides losing men as the conflict sprawls out onto the street.<p>

* * *

><p>Taking a peek at the cityscape of North Jump, Desade can see for quite some distance. Although his home lacks his previous Jump City home's size and opulence, it's still further up from street level than the majority of the residential homes.<p>

A sneer crossing his beared, weathered face, the drug lord wonders aloud to no one in particular. "_You're_ out there, aren't you Watchman? Yes, holed up in some whore's house, fighting _the good fight_ while ruining _my_ business. Well, we'll see how much pain _you_ can endure. Put _me_ through misery and I'll be sure to return the favor."

His desk phone comes to life, no doubt a message detailing the attack's progress. The receiver in hand, Desade greets his son with the usual "What's our situation?"

"_Four shops destroyed, dozens wounded or killed."_

"A good start, wouldn't you say?"

Sounding a bit worried, the son of Desade asks frankly "_Is this the right thing to do? The city's already turned their backs to us, the media's been stirring up the population…"_

"Have you heard from Rose yet?" There's no time for media discussion while there's a job underway.

"_She's about to move on the apartment building any moment now._" Clearing his throat, the young mobster suggests "_He might not come out, father. We've attacked too many places for him to defend all at once. By the time Bone realizes we've sent a force to Macie Street, it'll be too late for the Watchman to stop it._"

"He'll go to Macie Street, he doesn't have a choice. I'm sure Bone's been screaming on the phone like the little bitch he is, screaming for help. Marin, never forget that just because a man is _armed_ doesn't make him _dangerous_."

"_I understand where you're coming from."_

A tiny grin on his face, the subject matter is shifted just a little bit. "Are you sure the address she gave you was correct? I'd hate for the Baptist to kick in the wrong door."

"_The Baptist confirmed the address, he'll move in once the Watchman's on route."_

* * *

><p>Pulling on his long, black trench coat, Gar's language has gone from early-waking grumbling towards total, full-on Irish dockworker-like swearing. Shotgun? Check; Knives? Check; Anger? Plenty!<br>"What do you mean Macie Street's been attacked?" T&P demands swiftly at the sight of the thousand-mile-an-hour vigilante. "I thought the Desades were lying low since you…?"

"Things fucking change, TP!" Seeing the effect his voice has on her nerves, he tones down his voice. "This must be the start of the counterattack. Plan for the worst, hope for the fucking best."

"Well wait then, let me come and help! I can draw some of their fire, distract them while you…"

"No, this is a personal affair. What happened at the diner was a fluke, this is reality. I don't want you in the middle of the crossfire."

Grabbing him by the shoulder, surprised as his eyes glare back at her's, T&P declares her intent "I'm not a fucking useless bitch, _Watchman_. I'm not going to sit here while you go running around a gunfight!"  
>Buttons snapped up, he needs to get going in the worst way. "If you want to help me, don't leave this house. Keep an eye out for anything suspicious just in case they're watching this place. Wait for a phone call from me, then you can come to Macie Street."<p>

Before she can offer any further argument, Gar bounds out of the house, out the door, and into the sky in the form of a fast, Asiatic White-Throated Needletail, a bullet-like bird of incredible wing speed.  
>Unbeknownst to the Watchman, however, that was the cue the men in the two cars have been waiting for. As seven men exit the vehicles, the eight man out is clad in a brilliant, white coat.<p>

"Dr. Light, sir, we've learned that the Desades are making an effort to attack the North Jump Hoods. They've seen groups of gunmen across the city to attack Hood businesses and territory."

* * *

><p>Eyeing up his young, female assistant, the Illuminati leader rises from his seat but displays no change in facial expression. "<em>And<em>?"

"Sir, given the Illuminati's past encounters with the Watchman, I thought you'd be interested in any of his movements."

Stepping a bit to look the woman in the eyes, impressive as she's only a few inches shorter than he but just as dangerous, he comments on her initiative "I only concern myself on what he does to _our_ operations, not to those regarding the freak Antoine Desade."

Eyebrow cocked just a bit, this tone different than how he treated the green crimefighter in the past; she dares to ask "Frankly speaking, this isn't like you. Sir, you've expressed your contempt for him several times, even to the point of almost sending the whole Illuminati after him. Why have you changed your opinion so swiftly in such a short time?"

Pulling back a hand as if to discipline the younger criminal, he stops shot of a strike to the face. Observing her lack of a flinching motion, he grins with pride, softly though still maintaining his aura of power. "I believe the bigger matter involves a certain _winged_ demon, not some raging animal without a leash. Still, I believe you may have a point."

Although the subtle Raven comment isn't ignored, the urge to question him on that topic is. Offering some advice, she adds "We can't let the other metahmans believe we've abandoned North Jump entirely, it wouldn't look too good in your plan to seize the underworld. If I recall, Atomic Skull's been itching for another chance at a _real_ fight."

His smirk giving way to a belly laugh, the mad doctor leaves his companion, looking towards the gathered hall of criminals under his command. "You have a point, my dear. But to use him on the Watchman again would be a _waste_; he'll serve us better with a pre-emptive assault. Tell me, how many guards do you think the North Jump City Port has under Desade control?"

* * *

><p>"Goddamn, these Desade motherfuckers just won't QUIT!" Snapping off a few 9mm pistol rounds, Bone leaps behind a car to join some of his fellow Hoods.<p>

"Why the hell are they attacking _here_? They've already been shot up ONCE, this is just asking for the shit now!"

Firing a few more rounds, Bone curses along with his friend. "Least they've could've done was wined and dined us before trying to fuck us! Shit! Who the fuck's got the rear?"

Two more Desade vans appear to the rear of Macie Street, further adding to the chaos of the neighborhood battle. Reminiscent of the January attack, this assault has the advantage of surprise on the part of the Desades.  
>"Desades got through up front! They're comin' our way, Bone!"<p>

"SHOOT THEM! Fuck the police, this is every man for his self!"  
>…<p>

Even in the midst of the conflict, there comes a thump noise, shaking cars and startling the residents. Another, one more, the sound of approaching thumping grows louder, even louder than the machine guns and pistol fire.

With a bellowing howl, a green Tyrannosaurs Rex appears around the corner, roaring in hate and scattering the Desades. The Watchman will have none of that, the king of dinosaurs snatches its massive jaw at the puny humans, biting into one with teeth the nearly a foot long. His screams of pain are silenced at the great beast hurls the man across the street like a ragdoll, the limp corpse bursting through a second-floor window. Blood soaked on its jaw, the T-Rex howls once more, taking the incoming bullets like BBs (no pun) against a rhino.  
>"Marin, this is the Macie section. We are under attack from a dinosaur, repeat a FUCKING DINOSAUR!" Screaming into the phone only attracts the dinosaur's attention. As Bone's forces begin firing into the distracted Desades, the T-Rex comes down on the human, crushing him instead with a three-toed foot. Like gum under a shoe, the body parts dangle as the T-Rex moves on, changing into a panther after a few steps.<br>"Whoa, did you see that shit?"

"That motherfucker just ripped him…"

"WATCHMAN, GET THE FUCK OVER HERE!"

Slashing his way through another Desade goon, the panther slinks across the street, sprinting here and there to avoid the incoming shots… What Bone and his crew don't realize is that the panther's eyes aren't a normal shade of green, they're glowing green. It's not with great difficulty that the panther's claws dig through a man's stomach or that he'd pounce onto and off of vehicles when a would-be killer shoots at him. In fact, it's no effort at all when he wills his body into a strange bipedal, spiny creature with glowing green eyes and carnivorous fangs protruding from its sharp jaw. Bald and born of folklore, the Chupacabra on Macie Street is as real as any other creature in the wilderness.  
>While Bone and his crew snap to their attention first, it's a wounded Desade member that feels the Chupacabra's bite firsthand. Before the infamous goatsucker can have it's fill, it's kicked away by an on-rushing, disarmed Desade.<br>"Diversion successful! We're pulling back! There's a goddamn monster here and it's _eating_ us!"

Laying down smoke grenades, the Desades rush back to their cars while the white cloud masks their escape. Bone holds his Hoods back, instead ordering them to secure the street and collect the wounded. For him, the bigger issue is the snarling, hissing green monster, it's blank, green eyes looking for something to suck, something to _consume_.

"Watchman! Change the fuck back already, you're scarin' the hood."

The sounds of guns turning and cocking snaps both the monster and the gangster's attention to their rear. Looking back, they both see Atomic Skull arriving on Macie Street, another Illuminati by his side. With a hand and skull ablaze in green flame, it's obvious the Illuminati isn't here to talk sports. "Nice place, it's a shame we flew all the way here just to see it torn up by a few gangsters."  
>"What, you come for payback for that fight for the Xenothium? Sorry but we just got through one fight, maybe you should…"<p>

Bone's words fall on deaf ears at the Chupacabra changes into a cheetah, bolting off towards Atomic Skull with blood and saliva dripping from the mammal's mouth.  
>"You don't learn, do you kid?" Shooting a blast of fire under the cheetah's body, the animal is ejects into the air, crashing onto a lawn to the side of Atomic Skull. "You couldn't take me as anything under a bear and you come at me as a tiny <em>cat<em>? Show me something _worth_ fighting!"

The guns still trained on the two criminals, their weapons are rendered useless by a wave of Skull's female friend. The metal turning into red hot cinders, the weapons are dropped to the ground less they burn into their flesh. "Pathetic, all of you."

"Bitch, I DARE you to say that to my face!"

Looking at the offending Hood, the woman merely aims her palm at the man. At once his screams of anger turn into howling echoes of pain, his body literally burning from the inside. "Vibrate the iron in your blood fast enough and you'll _melt_ from the inside out."

"A Ferrokinetic, just like Doctor Polaris…" A normal-looking Watchman now speaks in his human voice. Wiping away blood and saliva, that bridge needing to be crossed later, Gar speaks again. "Wasn't Doctor Polaris killed during the Legion's battle against Darkseid?"

"With or without Darkseid, Luthor would've killed him."

Stepping forward, Gar defies the young metal-manipulator and taunts Atomic Skull "So you traded in a billionaire for a lightbulb? How far have _you_ fallen?"

The fire around his head and body glowing brighter, the nuclear-fueled villain growls in hatred "Listen, you little shit, if you have something to say, say it loud because I'll rip that jaw straight out of your body. I didn't come here to fight, but I'll sure as hell put you down once and for all."

"If you ain't here to fight, why the fuck are you here?" Bone shouts in a fury. It's bad enough his men were attacked by the Desades but now most of their firearms have just been melted away. A terrible waste of good weaponry if you ask him.

"Dr. Light's willing to help the Hoods in return for a favor. We think Madame Rouge's working with the Desades and has been since before Christmas."

"Madame Rouge? What the hell are you getting at?" Watchman's close to reaching into his coat pocket but… "Oh you have to be goddamn KIDDING ME! YOU FUCKING RUINED MY MOSSBERG!"

Raising her hand but holding off on the power, the mystery woman reminds him "Speak out of line again and you _will_ burn inside out."

"She's helping him in return for help against the Illuminati, that's the only reason that French bitch would go to a sadist like Desade. Dr. Light wants to strike first before she can get their alliance in full swing. With your help, we could take on the port facility where the Desades bring in their drugs. Without their drugs, they'll lose their lifeline."

"And a LOT of fucking good you've just done then. Your little… friend… just melted most of our weapons! How the fuck are we supposed to storm that dock without weapons? What, we gonna throw pots and pans at them?" Bone's anger boils over now into open hate. "First you melt our weapons, then you _kill_ one of my friends, one of MY FRIENDS, and then you tell us we have to help you to stop some bitch we don't even KNOW about?"

"She can't reanimate the dead but…" Waving her hand, the ferrokinetic lifts the weapons from the ground and starts to focus her energies as sharply as possible. With nearly thirty stunned men watching, the weapons are slowly returned to their normal forms, albeit it a little worse for wear. "…but she's learned well from Doctor Polaris, wouldn't you say?"

Shocked at the incredible display of mental control, the men of the North Jump Hoods find it hard to put words through their lips. Instead, Gar announces for the crew. "Was this all part of the plan? Woo us into helping?"

"The "wooing" was this lady here's idea. If it were up to me, I'd beat you into following orders."

"That's a fight for another day. Bone, I think this is worth going through. We'll have the support we need to take out the port now and finally cripple that bastard's business. Now, if you'll be so kind as to leave, we have some cleaning up to do before the cops descend on Macie Street… again…"

* * *

><p>With EMTs and NJPD forces around Macie Street for the second time in a month, Gar has to leave the area lest he needs to speak to the Chief of Police, again. Out of sight and range, he taps the earpiece once, calling out the name "T&amp;P" for reference.<br>After several rings, the voice on the other end isn't what he neither expected nor wanted to ever hear again.

"_Ah so the devil who walks in man's skin finally decided to call. I trust you aren't too busy, heathen, but I'm afraid you're little heretic friend is all tied up.'_  
>"BAPTIST! WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING ON THIS LINE!"<p>

"_The Lord communicates through His children in many ways, by thought, by heart, and even by long-distance telephone. Do you not feel His presence at this very moment?"  
><em>"What have you done with T&P you goddamn fucking HYPOCRITE!"

A laugh can be heard through the earpiece although it's surely not one of genuine mirth. _"That's a mystery for you to solve, devil. The details will be mailed to your masters in the city hall of Jump City. In the meantime, say your prayers and give thanks that He…"  
><em>Pushing the button off, the surging anger of the day's battle and the Baptist all comes together, swirling like a mighty vortex inside his… "FUCK!"

* * *

><p>AN2: Aha, a twist. If you can't get to Gar through gunfire, get to him through his women. But wait, there's more! When I said a "shift", it's about to get dangerous for Gar as a person. He can handle firefights, animal rampages, even a few burned fingers, but this is where it truly gets personal, again.  
>God I feel rusty writing.<p>

Trivia:  
>- A Doctor Polaris reference from Justice League. I figure there's more than one ferrokinetic in the world but I like the idea of her possibly being related to Polaris.<br>- Chupacabra!

Rhetorical:  
>Summer is my slow season for writing, I've got about 1000 miles of driving to do in the next 10 days so I'm sorry if this arc isn't done by Labor Day.<p> 


	18. Chapter 18

A/N: Told you I'd update, just not that fast. I've been on vacation (literally) and been through a lot since the last update. I've been through the most bruising moshpit (Reel Big Fish/Goldfinger) and the best waves (Wildwood, NJ) in a long time. This feels a little different due to the fact I've done, what, 2 chapters in three months? Still, it's building towards an end (aka it's the 2nd half of an arc, not an end)**  
><strong>

**Redux 3: There Goes My Hero**

"Hello North Jump, I'm Your Cherry Bomb…"

Chapter Four:

February 10, 2011:

Stories above the chilly sidewalks and avenues of Downtown Jump City, far from the eyes of the curious passerby stand three very unique yet very different individuals. On a hardwood table rests a powered laptop, the screen displaying a crudely-shot film taken not too long before this meeting.

As the film rolls, the look of Jump City's mayor is set in a frozen mix of anger and anxiety, the images on the screen an ominous sign of things to come.  
>Beside her, a man of mystery stands firm, ramrod straight as he watches the screen for any subtle clues. No emotions to be read on a blank face, only the slight turn of the head as each new possibility is unearthed.<br>And lastly, for the man in the midnight-black trench coat, their exists the grim stare of a man fighting desperately to restrain his anger, halting his fists from destroying the computer along with the expensive-looking piece of furniture.  
><em>"So, it goes like this: In return for our three guests, we want the city to help enforce a ceasefire between our two factions. Even the Watchman will admit that should the Hoods and our Desades keep fighting it'll only lead to more innocents getting killed in the crossfire."<em>

Glaring intently, Gar can only offer a snarl at the arrogance of Antoine Desade, using his son to broadcast the message.  
><em>"If the city doesn't move into North Jump to enforce the ceasefire, we cannot guarantee our guests' safety nor can we assure any of North Jump's population."<em>

Turning off with a click, the monitor stands blank and dark. It's the mayor who breaks the silence. "We received that message two hours ago. JCPD couldn't pull off any fingerprints and the background hasn't given any clues as to where they may be." Gesturing to follow her to her desk, the city's lead politician continues. "Furthermore we've been in contact with the North Jump PD over this matter and it seems we'll be drawn into this… ceasefire, whether we like it or not."

"How so?" Question's motive might be buried under more than just a mask in this case but that's not for the mayor to know.

"As you both have figured out, North Jump doesn't have the personnel to maintain the peace on a normal day, much less in the midst of a city-wide gang war. I've spoken with the Commissioner and he's ready to send over some of our best criminal task forces in less than a week."  
>Finally Gar speaks, lacking the subtle approach exuded from the Question. "Leaving Jump City exposed with Desade drags both police forces down in North Jump."<p>

While her gaze at Question might be considered neutral, her glare at Watchman is anything but. "We've been drawn into this because of _your_ actions, _Watchman_, not by ours. You wanted a gangland war between the North Jump Hoods and the Desades and that's just what you've created, isn't it?"

"That's right."

"And now you think you can stand and lecture _me_ about how to deploy our peacekeepers? You can't even keep the peace in the slums, much less anywhere else in this region."

No more Mr. Niceguy, that's for sure. "_And the JCPD has?_ Remind me again who helped sponsor the City Hall's _reconstruction?_"

"Enough!" Question interjects into this discussion before the mayor decides to throw the vigilante out the window. "What matters here are those three hostages' lives, not Jump City's seedier businesses. Mayor, there's always a deeper motive behind people's actions, especially in this circumstance. Do you think the Desades would take hostages if they were in a position of strength right now?"

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"After a month of conflict, the Desades have resorted to taking hostages in the hope of slowing down the Watchman and the North Jump Hoods. I believe what our young crimefighter here is trying to emphasize, rather poorly I might add, is that the Desades might be in a position of weakness."  
>Surprised by his elegant approach to diplomacy, the mayor suggests "Are you saying that the Watchman's war has made things <em>better<em> for North Jump?"

Gar concludes Question's point simply and to the point. "If they're taking hostages, it means they're on the ropes."

"A ceasefire right now could give them time to regroup but could also see three innocent civilians get killed. So, what we need is a course of action before we turn North Jump into another Mogadishu."

Catching the confusion on her face, Gar offers "Black Hawk Down, Somalia 1993. US troops crashed in Mogadishu, became a bloodbath."  
>"I understand what you're getting at. If we send in JCPD task forces, the fighting could intensify but it we don't act, three civilians would be killed. Those goddamn drug pushers can't see past their own wallets, can they? Hiding behind the citizens of North Jump just to satisfy their own greed!"<p>

"If they were only hiding, it would be a cruel thing indeed. Hiding behind their drug-addicted customers has to be the lowest of the low." Question turns to the Watchman, changing the tone "Have you made any progress finding a lead on the Desade family's location?"

"They've gone into hiding from what I can tell. Their apartments and major businesses are all but deserted and no one's heard from them since the 7th."  
>"…Very well then, I'll stick around for awhile until we find them. In the meantime, we'll need a way to buy some time until we can find their hiding place."<p>

"Watchman, can you keep the Hoods from launching more attacks?"

Nodding, the green metahuman informs the leading lady "Bone's been in the midst of reforming his own guys for another wave against Desade. I'm sure we could… persuade him to hold off another week."  
>"Are you sure? They lost several men during the last attack; they'll be eager for some payback."<p>

Glancing at the Question, Gar declares "I helped them get this far, I can shut them down just as fast. They'll listen."

"Very well then, gentlemen, I think we can keep both sides from killing each other for another few days. But, if those three hostages aren't released by the end of the week, the JCPD is moving into the city."

"The League won't be too happy with you staying around Jump City, Question… Shit, then again, they probably don't even know you're here."

* * *

><p>Speeding across the Bay Bridge, Q motions to pass on the left lane, enjoying this little chat with his associate. "There's a difference between working within a plan and working for what's right. Considering the people we're trying to rescue, I'm willing to sit through one of Batman's little pep talks."<p>

"Coming to help me save a P.I., a former detective, and a local criminal? Sorry, Question, but that's not your usual M.O."

"When you came back to the area, did you talk with Jake and the others about your time away from here?"  
>Sensing the shifting winds in the masked man's voice, Gar's reply is laced with suspicion "Not every detail, why?"<p>

"While you were busy back in Gotham, I helped with the search for you here in the Bay Area. Raven, Jacob Dewalt, and myself spent months looking for a solid lead, unaware that you were busy back in Gotham City causing trouble for the Irish."

"I'd heard about that from Raven while I was in Blackgate. So, are you here out of some sense of duty to your fellow investigator?"

Gripping the steering column a bit tighter, Question bites back "If we're going to play games, Garfield, we better be _honest_ with ourselves."

"_Games_?" Feeling his own fist tighten up, Gar asks rather coldly "What games are _you_ playing, Question?"

"I'm referring to the reason why you're back in the Bay Area. Someone had to let you out to the Asylum and I know for a fact it wasn't Batman. Who are you working for these days, I mean _really_ working for."

The anger fading, the idea that Question's out of the loop tells the story Gar needs to know. "You know I can't reveal that."

"Don't lie to me, Watchman, you might be clever outside on the street but in here I know you better than you know yourself."

"Some secrets are best kept secret, Question, in the name of both League and _national security_ interests."

"I knew it…" Deflating a little at the grim thought, the Hub City vigilante asks dejectedly "I take it they offered freedom in return for continuing your role as the Watchman?"

"99 years in Arkham or a few short years before getting killed in the line of duty; it wasn't an option I could afford to turn down."

"No… it wouldn't be prudent…"

* * *

><p>After several hours and one heated argument with Bone, the duo arrives at the abandoned clinic where Garfield had called home for the winter. Forgoing the usual "animal-and-crawlspace" routine, Gar settles for tearing down some planks and putting up a sheet to cover the hole. While the clinic is just that, an abandoned clinic, the sight of a work bench, battery, laptop, and lawn chairs seems rather pleasant next to rusted beds and rat droppings.<p>

"When I said think like an animal, I hadn't expected you to make a den like one."

Ignoring Question, Gar gestures to the computer and chairs. "You don't need a five star hotel to live."

"So what are we looking for?" Sitting in the lawn chair, the vigilante considers taking off his coat until the wintry gusts outside remind him of the temperature.

"Finding the Desades will be impossible if all we have is an old Shelby and a few firearms. We need help, Q."

"From?"

Typing away on the laptop, Gar replies "People. I'd like to bring in some part-timers as it were, form our own little task force."

Pausing a moment, Question finally lets out the smallest hint of a laugh. "The Watchman wants to form a _task force_?"

"Like you said, Jake spent a lot of time looking for me. T&P's got insider information on Madame Rouge and Ms. Sinclair hasn't done anything _worth_ execution. I'd like to think you'd do the same for me."

Hands folded in his lap, the former journalist watches with rapt attention as Gar furiously types away on some unseen website. Surely not the cold-hearted rebel he'd been hearing about as of late, the Watchman seems almost, just a hint like…

"Have you heard from Raven?"

Topic shaking him out of his observations, Q surmises "You haven't spoken with her?"

Still not looking at his comrade, Gar continues looking for that one site. "Haven't had a conversation since the night I interrogated Jester. She's a strong woman though, I'm sure she's been fine, I'd just like to make sure."

"I haven't spoken with her either…" To tell the truth or not? After all, Gar hadn't spilled the beans on whom he was working for, yes? "The sooner we can find your friends and take out Desade, the sooner you can meet up with her again, right?"

With a few final keystrokes, Gar nods "Right. She'll be here in a moment."

"Who? Raven?"

Finally looking back towards Question, Gar replies "Someone who tried to teach me the electric slide."

"… you're joking…"  
>Stepping up, Gar again informs the masked man "Seriously, she tried to teach me it once. It didn't work, I can't fly without wings."<p>

It starts with a buzzing noise, like appliances in the distance. Before you know it, the buzzing sounds like a bug zapper a few feet away. In the blink of the eye, the blue/white form of Livewire leaps forth from the computer screen, smirking with a Cheshire's grin and posing like a diva in the sunlight. "Hellloooo North Jump, this is your wake up call, courtesy of the lady who…"

"So you've recruited one of Superman's rogues I see. I wonder how he'd take it if he could see this?"

"Hey, who's the creep without the face? Ehh, it's givin' me the heeby-jeebes."

Making the introduction for the pair, Gar speaks to the pair "Livewire this is Question, Question, Livewire."

"_Question_? What, you couldn't go with "The Faceless Man" or "Blast from the 1940s?"

"I'm afraid not. Tell me, how your talk radio program going? I haven't heard you on the radio for some time now…"

Growling, the electric metahuman threatens Hub's crimefighter, pointing her hands forward "Smartass, how about I put a little _spark_ back in your step?"

Surprisingly it's the sound of a bottle of whiskey opening that ends this abrupt clash of personalities. Livewire takes a step back as Gar hands over the Irish booze to the older Question. "Sorry, Q, she's a bit feisty at first but she's really a sweetheart. And Livewire, would I ask you to come all the way here if I was just going to start some trouble for you?"

With a hmph, she puts her hands to her hips and offers a scowl at Question. "Seriously, Watchman, you hang out with some real winners."

"More compliments from today's youth," Adding some humor into his voice, if not sarcastically, Question pulls back the mask to his mouth "what a shocker…"

Hand on her shoulder, Gar's thankful the short-tempered villain doesn't burn down his hideout. "You're a real pain in the ass. Watchman, why did you bring me here and DON'T say it's because you missed me… although that _would_ be rather sweet…"

"T&P and two of my contacts have been taken hostage by the Desades." His tone fading away, back into that "Watchman" voice of his no doubt. "Livewire, Madame Rouge is working with Desade."

"WHAT?"

"Atomic Skull told me that Rouge was working with Antoine Desade and her penthouse has been empty for days. I asked you to come back because I need help tracking them down. Question here is good with working over _human_ contacts but you've got the fast track on the information superhighway."

Putting a finger to his lips, she jokes with a smirk "Save the puns for me, _Gar-baby_. I see what you're doing here but it ain't comin' cheap."

Sighing a bit, Gar asks the least-desired question he can. "What do you want?"

"You got any more of the Xenothium?"

Eyes dropping to a glare, Gar groans at the thought of stealing more. "No, we sold the bit we didn't use for your ring."

"Shame, I could've used a _necklace_ to go with that gorgeous ring." Smirking a bit at Gar's facial expression, she pulls the rug from his feet. "Tell you what, Gar-baby, we'll talk about my pay _after_ the job. Right now, I want to get my hands on that French whore."

"I'm sure. In the meantime, we'll start coordinating our efforts, alright? There's one other person I need to get before we're ready so I'll contact you in the morning."

"Who's your other contact?" Question asks, the humor between Livewire and Gar having past it's usefulness.

"Leave that to me, it's best if I keep this one personal. Question, I hate to ask, but could you keep the League out of this one?"

"THE LEAGUE? YOU'RE IN THE GODDAMN…"

Covering her mouth, despite the feeling of electric running through his hand, Gar growls back "LIVEWIRE, keep it down! We're in an abandoned building, not some underground fortress."

"I work _with_ the Justice League, not _for_ them."  
>Eyes still bugged at the sight of a Justice Leaguer in the room, she spins on a toe back to Gar. "You didn't say he was a <em>Leaguer<em>!"

"And you didn't tell me Madame Rouge kicked you out of her crew either. I'd say we're even."

* * *

><p>"<em>After I left the clinic I felt myself second-guessing the decision to bring Livewire into the mix. She could be a volatile metahuman at times but I hadn't expected her and Question to bicker quite so much. Oh well, that's that game if you want things to get done in this world. If people don't want to play by the rules, they can sleep outside with the rats and hobos but if you want to work, we can make miracles.<em>

To get to my other recruit, I'd have to bypass a few security codes, sneak through a few doors, slink past another serious of cameras, and do some serious praying an old friend wouldn't spot me. As I've learned in my time in the Bay Area, crews don't like having their workers "rented" or "borrowed" from them unless there's a big payoff waiting for their valued patience. In my time as "the Watchman", I borrowed from the League, from Madame Rouge, from the Hoods, even borrowed the Desades a little bit… but I hadn't really gone back and borrowed from my former team.

_Last time I checked the Titans were a different organization than our pre-2007 roster. Obviously with Starfire, Argent, and Raven gone, that left the Titans with an all-male lineup. Reviewing the notes in my mind, I think the Titans had Nightwing, Cyborg, Herald, Red Star, and Jericho but I'm not too sure. Still, getting past the humans would be easier but getting into the hub of the tower's security would be a challenge._

For my benefit it seems Robin… ah fuck it, Nightwing's still very keen on security. But with that security comes the need for a control center, a place where he can oversee that which most people don't even know exists. Still, give a dog a bone and he'll eat for an hour, give me twenty minutes and I can find my way into a secret security room. Hell, give me twenty seconds and I'll put a Mossberg stock right into that control panel after I erase the day's video feed.

This trip wasn't to disable to the Titans' security however, I had to wake up my recruit. If I was to keep Livewire in line while Question and I did the human digging, I'd need Cyborg on my side to keep her electric temper to a minimum. After eleven years he still remained the same: Lying flat on his back like an old Frankenstein movie, energy pumping into his batteries and REM moving through his sleep.  
>I awake him the best way I know how. Turn the power supply off and, carefully and precisely, swing my boot as hard as I can into the table.<br>He stumbles away in both surprise and alarm. I allow him to point the sonic cannon in my face as his body overloads with adrenaline and battery acid.

"_Hello" I offer, hopefully my face will be all he needs._

"_What the hell… Gar, is that you?" He asks me so unsurely that it almost sounds as though he's witnessing a dream._

"_Green, aren't I?"_

"_Damn, man, you scared the batteries right out of me. What you doing here this late?"_

_No time to beat around the bush, this is serious. "Cashing in a favor. Two of my associates in North Jump plus one local villain have been taken hostage by the Desades. I have a week to find and rescue them. We need your help."_

"_We? What the hell's going on?"_

_There's no time for this, I turn my back to the door. "Come on those terms or none at all. Help me find those hostages, I'll forget about all those years you stood on the sidelines…"_

"_Gar, what about Nightwing and…"_

"_Take a leave of absence, say you're needed on a personal assignment. Still have your holorings?"_

"_Yeah but… oh shit, Nightwing's gonna see the tape! He'll know we've…"_

_Too slow. If he were an enemy, he'd long be dead by now. "Already erased and taken care of. Call it a power overload. Do this for North Jump, Cyborg. Do this or North Jump will go back to being a warzone. When you're ready, call the old HIVE hideout in the Haight-Ashbury. We can proceed from there."_

_As he stood off the table, I could feel the inner conflict in him. I struck a chord with the gangland reference, I'm sure of that, but would he bend so easily._

"_Gar, man… what happened to you? You were never like this, even back at that spot with Gizmo. What's going on?"_

"_Call me when you're ready, then we can talk."_

* * *

><p>AN2: Finally, that only took one sitting. Gar, to me, wouldn't be able to track down the now-hiding Desades with the Hoods, it's like using everyday people to find terrorists in caves. Question and Livewire was a weird write, it went off on it's own (someone energetic and liberal would clash with the stiff, conservative Q). As for why Cyborg, I feel those two need their own issues worked out (plus he'll need a failsafe in case "sparky" goes wild or rogue)

Trivia:  
>- The Titan lineups were my guess, seeing as the females keep getting killed or quitting, I figured Robin... fuck, NIGHTWING would go all-male until Wonder Girl would be ready.<p>

Rhetorical:  
>- This is quite the Foursome, huh? A Cyborg, a human "Pikachu", a faceless man, and a psychopathic animal...<p> 


	19. Chapter 19

A/N: Took a few days to type this, I've had a lot to do in a short amount of time. (For those who've never seen them) GO SEE MOTORHEAD! Lemmy is amazing live (and no, I didn't include Motorhead in this story because I seen them, by a weird coincidence, they did a show in San Fran around the same time as this chapter's date.) There's quite a bit of humor, some darkness, and some humanity in Gar left.

**Redux 3: There Goes My Hero**

"Hello North Jump, I'm Your Cherry Bomb…"

Chapter Seven:

February 11, 2011:

"_Why wasn't I worried about the hostage situation? What story were you listening to, of course I was worried. Three people were in one of my enemy's hands and there wasn't a single solid lead to follow me to their hideaway. Maybe I didn't show it because I was too occupied with figuring out where they were being held; I didn't have time to get too angry or pace around the place. Ask any cop, any politician, and ask Mr. Jake Dewalt if time is something worth wasting, you'll get an honest answer._

_And since time was in short supply, worrying about the HIVE hideout's "secret location" was less a priority than pooling together my "team's" efforts. Livewire could surf the internet faster than a speeding bullet but Question knew the mind of criminals, the way they operate. The bickering wasn't nearly as difficult as the previous night, which is until Question decided to psychoanalyze Livewire during an online search. Suffice to say the former shock jock didn't enjoy having a "faceless freak" inside her head, especially while she was busy hacking Rose Desade's Facebook account._

_Easing the mood was the arrival of my former teammate. Coming down the steps, Question and I didn't see the hulking armor-clad Titan Cyborg but rather what appeared to be a normal-looking human male with two large fists and rings on a pair of fingers._  
><em>"Sorry it took so long, Watchman, it wasn't easy getting away from the Tower."<em>

_Nightwing's ongoing feud with me would have to wait if we were to save those three hostages, having Cyborg around would be a significant boost. What he lacked in organized crime experience could be balanced by his one powerful asset: Power.  
>"Recruiting from your old team, Watchman?"<em>

_Question might sound cold and calculating but if he hadn't meant the line as a joke, I doubt he'd roll my name so casually.  
>"Hey, what's going on out there? I can hear you talking about an old team?"<em>

"_My other recruit, Livewire. Keep looking." Looking at the former human vision of my teammate, I offer a hand. "Thank you for coming, Vic."_

_After shaking my hand, he stole a quick glance about the HIVE building. "Now with the original HIVE members either dead or separated, I figured using my undercover alias could work again."_

"_Stone sounds better than Cyborg." Question's tilt in his neck caught my attention, something needed to be said. "What's so funny?"_

"_An animal who disguises himself as a human; a cyborg who disguises himself as a human; and a human who disguises himself as a question..."_

_Popping out of the computer terminal, Livewire takes form with hands raised in the air "And I'm a super-fine, turn-it-to-eleven gal in disguise as simply…" Her half-assed attempt at electric humor was cut off as her eyes made contact with Cyborg. She moved a finger to her lip and took a step forward, almost as if she knew who he was without knowing. "Well, helloooo muscles… Gar-baby, you sure do pick the big ones: Question's a big pain in my ass, you're a big load of trouble, and this guy with the holographic field is a powerload."_

"_She can see through your illusion, Cyborg." Being an energy-based metahuman, it's no wonder she'd be able to see a holographic field when she'd see one._

"_Cyborg, from those kid Titans?"_

"_Oh boy…"_

_Before I could agree with Question, Cyborg spoke up. "Hey, I ain't no kid. And we aren't the Teen Titans anymore, we've…"_

"_Yeah yeah yeah, all those circuits and they couldn't program you a humor chip. Gar-baby, you got some weird friends."_

_I put a hand to Cyborg's shoulder before she could rile him up any further. "Livewire, knock it off. Cyborg's been generous enough to stick Nightwing's plans up his ass for awhile, leaving him open to helping us find Jake, Sinclair, and T&P."_

"_So you're after your two detective friends from North Jump, that's what this is about?"_

"_That's right, Cy, that's why you're here. Question knows how to work the streets, Livewire can crack any digital domain, but I wanted someone who can provide the muscle to bend any would-be pains-in-the-ass."  
>"Gar, honestly, you're not that small at all. Why do you need me if you could bend them yourself?"<em>

_Not to praise myself too much but I wasn't the green bean of yesteryear anymore, I could more than hold my own against street thugs. Still…  
>"Who's more threatening: The guy in the trench coat or the one who looks like a living boulder?"<em>

_Question didn't hesitate to whisper under his breathe "Or the man in the faceless mask…"_

"_I see what you mean, Gar, but what's the gameplan then? Have you found any leads?"_

"_Livewire?"_

_She snapped me one of those two-finger salutes people say I do, grinning like that cat from Alice in Wonderland. "Boy did I ever. Seems Daddy Desade's daughter's got more than just cocaine running through her heart, I think she has something of a vigilante-fetish."_

_The three of us must have looked very confused, even if you couldn't see Question's reaction. I dared to speak finally "Let me guess…"_

"_Yuppers!" Livewire merely snapped her fingers at the computer screen, the room came alight with a Facebook page and one very odd piece of blogging. Like the idiot that I am, I started to read the title aloud. "Who would I fuck if I he ever got out of…"  
>"Damn, Gar, you finally got that groupie you've always wanted."<em>

_Question chimed in after Cyborg, cutting me off. "She's the stalker-type too it would seem, right up his alley."_

_And damn it if Livewire sounded off before I could speak. "What can I say, we gals just looovvvveeee the bad boys."_

"_Fascinating, great, what else do you have?"  
>"Geez, Watchman, grumpy much? Didn't you wanna know why I brought this up?"<em>

_Joking aside, she did have a point. "Why did you bring this up, Livewire?"_

"_Watchman," Question asked rather bluntly, "have you ever considered working as a hired escort?"_

…

_Yes, there was a long pause between the four of us._

…

"_Fuck you."  
>"Hey, Gar, Question got a point. This is Desade's daughter, right? If she's really diggin' you…?"<em>

"_Cy, knock it off, it ain't gonna happen."_

_Livewire, the bitch… She slid up next to me and zapped me in the ribs for a poke. "C'mon, it'll be fun! You work her over with your…charm…she gives up the location, we storm the place!"_

_This wasn't going the way it was planned. We were supposed to sweep the city, shake down criminals, not send me off on some sort of romantic Trojan Horse… goddamn fucking innuendo…  
>"Desade can't have too many places to hide. All it should take is a few rounds through the power grid and a few Desades to interrogate."<em>

_Cyborg's plan, again, was boosted by Question. "Looks like you're becoming quite the leader, Watchman. Not only do you help organize a plan to fight the Desades but now you're volunteering to throw them off our trail."_

"_I didn't agree to anything. I don't think she'll come out to see me, not when the whole family's gone into hiding."_

_Livewire then did something I probably would've killed her for if I met her years later: She sent a digital message through the social media site to Rose._

"…_What did you just do?"_

_That smile of her's exploded wide like Starfire's after a liter of soda. "I sent her a message saying a man in green would like to meet up and discuss a possible…night on the town?"_

_There I was, Garfield "Watchman" Logan, a reported psychopath and anti-hero suddenly being dumbstruck by this villainess sending a MESSAGE to an enemy… "Why did you…?"  
>"Garfield, the lightbulb has a point."<em>

_Cyborg continued even as Livewire threw a spark at Question. "If this woman's really that into you, she'll be too distracted BY you to see one of us put a GPS in the car. Then we can follow her and see if she'll lead us to these hostages."_

_Raven bless me, I actually threw one of her glares their way. "And why do I have to be the guinea pig?"_

"_Because of the four of us you're the only one who knows what it's like to be the pig."_

* * *

><p>Hours into the day, the sun sets on the horizon, casting an orange haze over the abandoned dockyards in North Jump City. Well, <em>almost<em> abandoned, there's one late-model blue Subaru Impreza cruising between two rows of warehouses, its driver looking bored with the day's activities. Waving briskly at what appears to be a mere security guard, the Impreza continues on it's journey. Pulling next to an unordinary-looking warehouse, Marin Desade exits the vehicle, stuffing the keys into his navy blue sports coat. Shivering in the wind, the son of Antoine Desade produces another key, this time one to the lock keeping any would-be homeless residents from squatting.  
>Inside presents itself as anything but an unordinary-looking warehouse, more likely it appears to be a staging ground for what could be described as two companies of Desade fighters. Most are armed with automatic weapons while others seem fit to sharpen knives or other stabbing weapons. From outside the sound-proofing keeps the gentle sound of rock music at bay even if the resident in the main office isn't.<br>"Rose, how many times do I have to tell you _not_ to beat up the hostages?"

The woman in question, Ms. Rose Desade herself, shrugs her shoulders mockingly "I don't know, how many times do I have to tell you to _knock_ before you enter a lady's room?"

"_Yeah_, a lady, that's a good one." Tossing his coat onto a desk chair, he peeks over at the gagged-and-bound form of T&P, her hair trussed up badly, although not nearly as bad as the bruising is on her face. "As for the _gag_, that's just too much." Peeling off the duct tape over T&P's mouth, Marin offers "Sorry, my sister's a terrible host."

"Funny, that's supposed to be a _joke_?"

"No," Marin offers before backhanding her with his right hand "that's just me being polite. And yes, I'd hit a woman if she's being _rude_. Now be a good little hostage and keep that pierced-up lip shut."

"It won't work, Marin, she keeps on biting everytime you get close."

"That's up dad's alley, not mine." Finally taking a moment to _really_ look at Rose, he notices that she's not in her usual casual attire. "Planning on going somewhere?"

Holding back a grin in the mirror, the raven-haired cocaine-addict slyly asks back "We're all going somewhere, aren't we?"

"Dad doesn't want us in public were the Watchman can find us. As long as we play it safe, we can…"

Her dark laughter silences Marin, the prodigal son left confused by the display. "Marin, if we played _everything_ safe, we wouldn't _live_, would we? Sounds like you're the one who should get out, not me."  
>"I do go out… more than just for blow."<p>

T&P smirks a bit, dryly pointing out the obvious "Sibling rivalry, beautiful isn't it?" Another backhand is all she gets for her trouble.

"If you _must_ know, I'm going out for a concert tonight." Twisting in a mirror, she eyes up her black and red corset top, looking for any imperfections. "I missed Social Distortion last week so I'm going out to see Motorhead."

"Going out to see some sixty-something year old singer when we're in the middle…"

"Marin…" Rose stands ram-rod straight, looking over her shoulder in the mirror with a distinctly dead-pan expression. "Tonight I'm going out to have a good time, _whether or not you, dad, or the whore_ _says not to_. If you'd like to try and _stop me_…?"

Not wanting a fight, Marin smartly backpedals out of danger "Ok, ok, fine, who's taking over for you on watch duty?"  
>"Oh I'm sure the Baptist won't mind teaching this goth <em>bitch<em> how to love Jesus. The best way to get what you want is to feed people what they _think_ they want."  
>"It's punk, not goth."<p>

No backhand this time but Marin asks something that's been on his mind "Granted but why are you going alone?"

A twinkle in her eye, Rose floats about the subject "Oh, I'm sure I'll find some _man_ while I'm there. I'm sure he's been waiting all this time _just for me_."

* * *

><p>Outside of the Warfield Theater in Downtown Jump City, Garfield Logan stands with a chill up his spine, more from his approaching guest than the February winds. Hands firmly in his coat, fingers and toes tapping without notice, there's a debate in his head whether or not to beat his "team" in the ass or the brain.<br>_"Watchman, copy?"_

Cyborg's voice shakes Gar from his thoughts, the disguised crimefighter taps his ear to respond. "Copy. Status?"

"_Question's scoping the parking lot, Livewire's in a telephone pole across the street, and I got rooftop. When she gets here, we'll move into position."_

Rolling his shoulders to force blood into his chest, Gar exhales bitterly, attracting some odd stares from patrons waiting to enter. "Contingencies?"

"_If she arrives with escorts, Livewire will make the drop."_

Glaring at anyone who'd look back at him, Gar mutters in annoyance "Stealth, Stone, keep it quiet."

"_Actually I think she's been enjoying this. Last check-in I could hear her laughing to herself while she watched you."_

That next shiver _wasn't_ from the cold. "Remember when I wanted to be a chick-magnet?"

"_How could I forget?"_

"Be careful what you wish for."  
>Question's voice jumps into the conversation with the news Gar had been dreading since this morning. <em>"I see a red sports car, looks like a newer model."<em>

"So?"

"_The novelty plate has a rose and a handgun on it."_

Palming his face, Gar groans to himself "She's here. All points, keep your eyes open…"

"_When someone goes "undercover", everything must be directed at making the mark believe you're sincere and genuine, to the point where you'll be willing to do things you'd normally find unforgivable. This could involve killing someone to keep the mob on your side, smoking out of a pipe to keep the drug pushers happy, or something so full of bullshit as keeping your enemy's daughter believing you're doing this out of "love", not out of "necessity."_

_As a man I have to confess that when Rose Desade turned the corner from the parking lot and marched toward me, there wasn't the usual feeling of disgust in knowing who her father was. I didn't find myself wondering how to put down the Desades with as little bloodshed as possible. And, if I must admit the truth, I wasn't concerned with how were we going to get that GPS onto her car._

_Like a lioness without the alpha male in the pack she strolled up towards me as though the whole of Jump City was in her possession. Every time she kicked out those knee-high black boots of her, I could think of a Persian cat strolling across the living room floor… Then again, when it came to the black/red corset and skirt I damn near had to wonder just how much animal hormones love to fight my human ones._

"_Hey, got a question for you big guy." Damn that woman's slick. "Who are you here to watch? Motorhead or the Watchman?"_

"_Funny, I was going to ask if you came here for Lemmy or for a Watchman."_

_That did it, the whole ball of wax. She didn't give a single fuck if anyone stared or if anyone had an issue, she jumped up and snatched me around the neck. There, in front of quite a few people, Rose Desade planted one of hell of a kiss on my lips. Thinking back on it now, I wonder if she would've done that to some stranger if he asked something like that without knowing._

"_I came here to see you, crimefighter. It's not everyday a girl gets taken to a metal concert with a badass like you."_

"_Flattery will get you everywhere. I'm surprised you'd come out with me, with your family having trouble and all."_

_With that she dug her nails into my arm, smirking at the slight hiss of pain that came from my throat. With that cold, red-eyed stare of her's, she told me very bluntly "I don't want to hear about them tonight, Watchman, I came here… just for you."_

* * *

><p>AN2: Rose is becoming one of my favorite characters again (skittles don't read this anymore but it's still an extended thank you for helping create that char.) She's twisted, somewhat neurotic, and yet head-over-heels to the point where I doubt she gives a damn about the whole Watchman-vs-Desade thing... for now.

Trivia:  
>- Warfield Theater, real theater in San Fran<br>- Although Motorhead didn't play in San Fran on the 11th of Feb, they played within the month. Feel guility for having bent the real world that much but, hey, her favorite band "Social Distortion" played there in Feb too, not on the same night.

Rhetorical: T&P's by herself it seems, where are Jake/Rebecca? More importantly, I think Gar's got himself a little problem and I don't think Rose is helping.


	20. Chapter 20

A/N: Took awhile to get my lazy ass to write but part of this has been planned for a couple months, maybe a year. Following up on the previous chapter, namely the concert. I got to finally incorporate some fighting back into the frame but not for Watchman. Speaking of that green hobo, the prick goes through a wild night...

**Redux 3: There Goes My Hero**

"Hello North Jump, I'm Your Cherry Bomb…"

Chapter Eight:

February 11, 2011:

"_Up until the night of the 11__th__, I don't think I'd ever been to a legitimate concert. Over the years I've been to various raves and warehouse parties but there's a different vibe when there's a band on stage rather than a DJ. The music seems grittier, the fans crazier, and even in the winter the room feels hotter than a day in the Mohave. We hadn't even gotten to Motorhead yet and people were already throwing themselves around._

_Naturally Rose Desade didn't mind the chaos, she was too busy cheering, "moshing", and hanging on me to care. During one of those pits I saw her tackle a man without a shirt, just straight football-spear him to the ground. Did the others care? No, they just cheered her on even as the kid got up with a hand to his ribs. Another time she tried to jump on top of some people, apparently getting some kind of "crowd surfing" or whatever it's called going. For the record, while I may be clinically insane, the idea of throwing my 200+ pounds on top of a crowd seems rather cruel. After a few songs I noticed the crowd was growing steadily wilder, the tension and alcohol in the air felt as though a heavy blanket covered everyone and something bad could happen at any moment. _

_In the middle of the floor, three kids were doing something Rose named "violent dancing", throwing their arms all over the place while banging their heads. In my eyes all they seemed to be were three drunken young adults wasting ten-by-ten of floor space. When I stepped into the circle to move closer to the stage, one of the three was took a swing in my direction. I could blame my reaction on PTSD, on bad experiences in Gotham's Correctional System, or even my past as a crimefighter… but I'd be lying if I told you that I didn't enjoy pushing his fist back into his forearm._

_Oh, before I forget, I need to say that while I'm no role model when it comes to drinking alcohol, drinking alcohol in a place where the music's too loud, the crowd's too rowdy, and a drug lord's daughter is latched to your shoulder is by far a bad idea. The music was loud, I should've expected that even with my sensitive hearing; the crowd was vicious, I realized that it was a metal concert; and while I knew Rose Desade could put away the liquor, I didn't realize that being away from women for so long had a bigger effect than I anticipated."_

* * *

><p>Outside of the famous venue, behind the parking lot and seemingly sight-unseen are a group of no more than twenty Bulletface and Triad members, each watching for any signs of movement. While it might be easier to storm the place and seize Antoine Desade's only daughter; the public's response to such a high-profile crime isn't worth the risk. The fact that her car has been spotted and sources inside the hall report having sighted her is plenty for the moment.<p>

'_Remember, I don't want to start any public trouble. The Desades did enough damage in North Jump, I will NOT have that happening with our alliance. We want her alive, no shooting unless you're given no other way out."_ Bulletface doesn't need to be any clearer with his man on the ground, the message is well received through the cell phone. _"Any man who fucks up will be seeing Daiyu… very, very soon."_

It would be a lot easier for the Bulletface-Triad troupe if they understood just what exactly was inside Rose's expensive red car. While the electric-blooded villainess from Metropolis taps into the vehicle's GPS, Stone and Question prep the receiver that will help guide them, hopefully, back to Rose's hideaway.

"_Livewire, what's the hold up?"_ Stone's impatience seems unusual but given that twenty minutes have gone by…

"Yeah, hack the GPS without setting off every light in the vehicle, way to stay covert…" If she was really hacking the GPS, it would be much easier, but that little flutter of digital resonance is what's on her mind. "Since the two of you are doin' nothing back there, why don't you figure out why three vans are parked over by the entrance."

"_It's probably security or road crew, Livewire."_

"_Probably but there's nothing wrong with a healthy skepticism. Who do you think it could be?"_

A smirk on her digital lips, the blue-hairred criminal proposes "They ain't rent-a-cops and they ain't lookin' too happy."

"_Let them be, finish that GPS hack and we can check it out."_

That smirk isn't there anymore. "Gee, who died and made you team leader?"

"_My tracker's already programmed and I'm not even fully electronic."_

"Half a brain and burn-out for a microchip, Watchman sure picks them."

"_Enough, both of you. Finish the hack, I'll go make a pass on those vehicles."_

Poking her head out of a rear brake light, Livewire dares to ask "Playing decoy, Question?"

"_Babysitting's not my style."_

* * *

><p>With an intermission underway between the first and second opening acts, Rose and Gar find themselves in the back by the bar, taking shots of Jose Cuervo and Jameson respectively. For the two North Jump residents, the teens and middle-aged men are a mere background image, the real focus is on each other… for varying reasons, of course.<p>

"So, wait a second… you _burned_ the guy _before_ you punched him in the dick? Why did you punch him _there_?"

Recalling one of his _many_ incidents in Blackgate, a warm-blooded Garfield Logan retorts "I don't do _rape_ and I especially don't do _guy-on-guy_ neither."

"Still that's some cold shit, punching a man in his balls after you burn him."

Another shot glass, another thing for his liver to complain about. "Happens when you're in jail: Kill or be killed."

"Well you've killed _a lot_, haven't you?" Turning a bit starry eyed, she explains that fateful day in her own perspective. "One hundred men, that's a lot for one's day work. I saw you on the TV and you looked so…"

Gar doesn't follow the awe-struck woman's gaze however, only his drink occupies his eyes. Were in not for the dark interior, his green sunglasses would be most valuable in hiding his true expression.

"Hey, what's wrong?"

Merely a long pause and another shot glass down the throat, Gar's face is as cold as an Arctic morning but there's something in the twitch of an eye that says all they're need be.

"Gar, look, sorry if I brought up some bad memories, I didn't realize just how hard that must've been."

Straight forward, the vagrant asks with cynicism "The killing or the prison part?"

"Both."

For a moment it seems the man in disguise has gone into some trance, a deep void from which even Rose's red eyes can't conceive of. But after the bartender passes them by, it's the solemn words of a man beyond his age that speaks. "Well, that's the part about being on the outside that's so confusing to me. Inside it's structured, organized. You don't worry about where you're going to live, what you're going to do for food because it's all right there, twenty four hours a day. No concerts, no crimefighting, just existing without any concerns about how to make ends meet or what you're going to do for the weekend."

"But you're a caged animal, one that couldn't handle being locked up for too long. That's why you escaped, isn't it?"

Escape wouldn't be the right word but Ms. Waller wouldn't appreciate having her name thrown into this conversation. "After too long you realize just how sad it is to exist for only the hope you'll be free, far from the concrete walls all around you."

"And now you're as free as a bird, you can do anything you want with _whomever_ you want, right?"

Dashing her hopeful gaze, Gar informs the wayward woman with stark reality. "No, I'm still a caged animal, walls or no walls. Still trapped in the endless cycle of crime, killing, it's not a matter of _should_ I do but rather _how can I do this as carefully as possible_? To live a life with no home, no future, and certainly no chance for a family… I've traded a prison of steel and concrete for a prison of _freedom_ and _opportunity_."

Surprising to him is the look on Rose's face. For two young adults at a metal concert, the heart-to-heat seems more fitting for a coffee shop somewhere Downtown. No, her face doesn't reflect her usual manic self nor does it convey the icy look of a hardened killer. Taking his hand into her own, she leans off the bar stool. "If that's the case then all I can tell you is to live for the moment. I take each moment at a time, enjoy the little things. Right now you're a man at a concert with a woman who's gonna give you the ride of a lifetime. I say enjoy it, live a little. You never know, it could turn out to be fun."

* * *

><p>Without a screen of gas to change his color, a man sporting a brown trench coat and fedora approaches the side of Rose's car, eyeing it for something unseen. Of course to the man with the rough and aging face this is merely a ruse, a lure to snag Bulletface's goon's attention.<br>_"What the hell are you doing?!"_

Muttering to keep the noise down, Question responds to Livewire's call. "Baiting."

"… _Master?"_

Ignoring the innuendo, Question continues. "If there's Triad or Bulletface troops here, they'll be confused why someone like me's checking out Rose's car."

"_You're insane."_

Letting out the smallest of laughs in retort, Question remarks "Enlightened is more like it."

It doesn't take long for the bait to catch some prey. Out of the van appears one Bulletface soldier in a trademark black suit. Stepping across the parking lot, looking as nonchalant as possible, the gangster places a cigarette between his lips. "Excuse me," he calls out to Question "you wouldn't happen to have a light?"

"I burned my last cancer stick. Wouldn't mind if I bummed one, would you?"

The man doesn't seem too afraid of Question as he reaches into his pack of Marlboro's. "You don't mind Reds, right?"

"They'll do. It's not like Phillip Morris and Somali piracy has anything in common…" The casual glance turned to confusion, Question is forced to dupe the ignorant fool. "Sorry, something I read in a book." Snapping an old metal lighter down, the flame sets both tubes of tobacco alight. "Haven't tasted one of these in a long time, thanks."

"No problem." Looking back to the vans, the man changes the topic. "Look, I'm sure this is just a little paranoia on my part…"

Question refuses the urge to lecture the man on the _true nature_ of paranoia. "Yes?"

"But I need to know why you've been scoping out this car for the past five minutes."

"_Uh oh, this could be it."_

"_I heard, Livewire, I'm coming down."_

"Me?"

His demeanor is quickly taking a turn for the worse. "Yes, _you_. I'm afraid I'll have to ask you to leave if you don't move along."

"_Really_? I wasn't aware this venue had plain clothes security on payroll. Tell me, how many security guards are in your vans?"

"_Vans_?"

Pointing with the cigarette, Question gestures at the three black vans past the lot. "Those three, the ones the Bulletface Gang is known to use."

There goes the semblance of peace in this conversation. "Listen, if you know what's good for you. Hit the fucking road, you don't want any part in this."

Taking a long, long drag of his cigarette, Question releases the smoke into the air. "Maybe I do… Rose Desade and her father are nothing but scum but maybe "Bulletface" Bryson is that much more."

A quick jab across the face sends Question down to one knee, nothing too serious considering both Green Arrow and Huntress have popped him a few times. Laughing a bit, more out of irony than anything, the former journalist inquires "Didn't quite catch that, was that an invitation?"

As the gangster attempts to kick Q as he's down, a bolt of electricity turns the well-built man into a living bug zapper, complete with violent twitching and gibberish.

This summons the rest of the troupe, their numbers pouring into the parking lot without a care for the witnesses. Livewire, now fully formed, calls out to the men. "Come and get us, gang-banging bitches, we got ALL night."

Back on his feet, Question remarks "They don't have guns."

"Neither do we, makes it interesting doesn't it?"

* * *

><p>"<em>Love, at first sight… love with a traveling man… I been a slut all my life…Wish every night was a one-night stand!"<em>

As Lemmy's grizzly voice reverberates throughout the Warfield, the drums and guitars in harmony, there doesn't fail to be a wild scramble at the front of the floor. People of all walks of life are picked up and surfed, others thrashing around in a drunken rage, and one very happy coke addict screams for the rock legend. Gar doesn't fail to notice the "one night stand" joke in the song's lyrics but as long as Rose is looking at the rock'n'roller, she isn't paying him any attention… and given his growing alcohol buzz, that's probably a good thing.

… that is until the woman in question just happens to turn her head and offer one devious-looking grin.

* * *

><p>"Forget the heavy metal, beating up these guys is so much better!" Livewire laughs even more as she zaps a Triad in the leg, kicking him in the face once he hits the deck.<p>

"Speak for yourself." A headlock around a Bulletface trooper, Question has to spin the body around to block another Bulletface member from getting behind him.

In the middle of a larger brawl, Stone has taken to fighting a dozen of the twenty men. Using his raw muscle to overpower some, he tosses the others across the pavement, fighting the urge to shout one loud "BOOYAH"

"Stone, look out behind you!"

Livewire's shout deals with one Bulletface man who _did_ come armed. Then again using a mere handgun against someone built out of long-lettered metals isn't the brightest of ideas. "I don't like people _shooting_ at me." Taking the gun out of the man's hand, Stone crushes the cheap weapon with ease. "And I don't like cowards who _hide_ behind guns." A punch to the face should get the emphasis across.

"Jeez, you think he's having fun?"

Question spies Livewire using her energies to make a man's cell phone in his pocket explode, leaving Q to wonder aloud "Not as much as you seem to be."

* * *

><p>"<em>If you squeeze my lizard… I'll put my snake on you… I'm a romantic adventure… and I'm a reptile too!"<em>

If this were any other day, with any other person, and certainly in a better frame of mind, Gar wouldn't be listening to the music through two layers of stone and plaster. Then again he wouldn't be holed up in the men's bathroom, sitting on _the head_ with a woman in his lap.

* * *

><p>The twenty gangsters defeated, the trio quietly remove the victims, placing them back into the vans with little care for their personal comforts… that is, except for one. Question's rather keen on keeping the man with the cigarettes awake for questioning.<p>

"All alone, aren't we?"

"What the hell are you doing?! Don't you know who I work for?"

Smiling just a little darkly, Question reminds his captive "Oh but do you know who _I_ work for?" Tapping the button on his belt, a simple shroud of smoke does it's work. Changing into his familiar blue clothes, Question marvels at the man's fear as Q's face seemingly vanishes. "I work _for the people_ and right now I have a few _questions_ for you."

* * *

><p>"<em>Don't sweat it… get it back to you! Overkill…. Overkill….."<em>

* * *

><p>Out in the street with hundreds of other concert-goers flooding out of the building are two drunken though laughter-filled adults. As with their late "date", Gar and Rose carry each other, arm over each other's shoulder, stumbling towards the parking lot. And while the previous date's night ended on a wild drive through Jump City, the marks across Gar's neck prove that chaos might have come early this time.<p>

Not a word need be spoken about the night, only a question are to where Rose left her keys for the car. It won't be until the morning until they realize how close they were to a gangland beat-down.

* * *

><p>AN2: Frantic at the end, ain't it? Just like a real concert, everything's fast and heavy... And Gar's gotten himself into a whole lot of drama, hasn't he? Booze is a hell of a drug, especially when you ain't been out of prison more than three months. I'm glad I got to write some fighting with Livewire/Question/Stone, I like writing them as an unlikely trio.

Favor: Please visit mein deviantart page, Someone072 dot deviantart dot com for a picture of Stone, Livewire, Gar, and Question in a pose. Danke.

Trivia:  
>- Motorhead's songs "One Night Stand", "Killed By Death" and "Overkill" all are referenced.<br>- The arrangement of songs is the same order as the show in San Fran I based the appearance on.  
>- The Phillip Morris - Somali piracy line harkens to Q's conspiracies. (If you don't know Phillip Morris, they produce Marlboro cigarettes)<br>- Believe it or not I've known quite a few people who fuck in the bathroom (or outside) during concerts.

Rhetorical:  
>I wonder if Gar's putting on an act for Rose, means it, or a combo of both. God help him if Raven finds out. <p>


	21. Chapter 21

A/N: This took a few re-writes to get right, mainly because I've altered the final chapter (coming next.) The plans are laid, the time is just about here, and throughout it all there's tension because someone couldn't keep his dick in his pants. As a personal issue I have trouble writing race-related issues because race never bothered me, it's a bullshit excuse by people in power to keep people divided and I'll have none of it.

**Redux 3: There Goes My Hero**

"Hello North Jump, I'm Your Cherry Bomb…"

Chapter Nine:

February 13, 2011:

"_For the record, I still don't know why Gar asked me to record this part of the report. Keeping track of events usually falls under Nightwing's expertise; I'm just the heavy muscle. Well, maybe I'm selling myself a little short; I'm the heavy hitter with a microprocessor for a brain. Still, he asked me to keep track of this part of his "campaign", I don't want to disappoint._

_When the GPS records starting coming in on the morning of the 12__th__, Gar's eyes lit up like Christmas came ten months early. "Boredom" as he told me was his kryptonite or something to that effect. After four years it's good to know some things haven't entirely changed; he's still got that pedal-to-the-medal attitude, even if it's not directed at sleep or food anymore. The data we received would prove valuable in narrowing down his three friends' location, maybe even leading to "Daddy" Desade as he called him. _

_I don't want to sound like I'm not paying attention to the day's "activities" but something must have happened between Gar and Rose Desade at the concert because he's being more blunt, more icy in his attitude. I've known Garfield for eleven years now and I can say the only times he's in a foul mood like this is when something, or rather someone's fucked him over. I still don't know what happened between the two of them but it hasn't helped the vibe in the HIVE HQ, I'll tell you that much._

"Seems Rose doesn't mind the high gas prices in California."

Cyborg snaps out of his gaze for a moment, Gar's comment seems so unusual to his ears. "Because she's been all over North Jump City or because she's been out all day?"

"For a group of drug dealers trying to stay on the down-low, she's staying awfully visible."

Question puts a hand on Cyborg's shoulder for a moment, alluding to Gar's vague statements. "What our young vigilante is referring to is how she's stopping at gas stations, convenience stores, and quite a few houses. Why would someone who's trying not to be seen go out to so many public locations?"

"Could be running errands for "Daddy", maybe checking up on their soldiers?"

Gar rubs his chin lightly with his firm fingers, staring at the map, not a single glance cast towards Question or Cyborg. "Doubt they'd hide hostages in a 7-11."

"I don't understand something, Question: Why go through all the trouble of going into hiding if you're trying to show dominance in your city? Wouldn't the Desades be better off going on the offensive, chasing the Hoods into the shadows?"

"It would if they had the manpower… Perhaps Antoine Desade's holding back his forces, regrouping for some sort of counterattack…?"

Still staring, no change in his expression whatsoever, the Watchman mutters to himself. "She's been in Berkeley, the Port Authority…"

"You really think the Desades could mount a counterattack? From what everyone's told me the Desades been on the ropes ever since the first shot. If you don't count a few buildings taken out, the Desades have practically lost every engagement."

Nodding oh-so-lightly, Question wonders aloud again. "I wonder what sort of man Antoine is… Either he's incredibly patient or he's downright arrogant."

Stepping up from his seat, Gar finally enters the conversation. "He's both."

"How do you know that?"

Garfield doesn't hesitate to look Cyborg in his human eye. "I've met him in 2007. He's arrogant but he's intelligent. He probably knows our attack's coming."

"The Hoods have been silent since the cease fire. If he suspects an attack, he'll have to look across the Bay."

For a moment the Watchman looks as still and silent as a cemetery stone, still enough that both blink in surprise as Gar finally turns on a heel and moves for the exit stairwell.

"Where are you going?"

Snatching his trench coat from the coat hanger, Gar calls out "To see Bone. Come with me, Cy, it's time I introduced you to the Hoods."

* * *

><p>"<em>He definitely acted different after that concert, his voice sounded as cold as Raven's but without the usual hint of sarcasm or cynicism. Even after all these years, after all that time begging for a moped, he still hasn't learned to drive. That part shouldn't have surprised me; he did spend half of his time away from the Titans in prison so getting a license would have been a waste. It didn't make the car ride any less tense however; it was so thick you could cut it with your hand.<em>

_For most of the ride across the Bay he stared out the window, always keeping an eye towards North Jump. This wasn't the trickster I'd met in 2000, this wasn't the teenager that helped bring down The Brotherhood in 2006… this was someone completely different, a man in every detail. It's a shame, we've all grown up so fast that we hardly recognize each other: Gar with his holoring, looking like a white male and me with my holoring, just another black man in the City by the Bay_

"_How long's it been?"_

_We'd just gotten to the middle of the Bay Bridge when he popped that question on me. I wasn't sure what he meant but I had a feeling in the way his body language spoke. "Since what?"_

"_Since we last spent time together, just me and you."_

_My hunch was right but this wasn't the time for gloating. What this situation needed was patience, not a confrontation. "Too long."_

"_Yeah…"_

_If he was going to be a pain in my ass about it, I might as well drag him out of that melancholy of his. "What's on your mind, Gar, and don't tell me it's nothing. We both know something happened at that concert so don't tell me nothing's eatin' you up inside."_

_What he dropped on me next almost shocked me into crashing the vehicle. "Rose and I fucked in the bathroom of the Warfield."_

_Some cars behind me blasted their horns but my human mind didn't register a damn thing. "You WHAT?!"_

"_I had four-or-five too many shots of Jameson, she wanted to fuck. What was I supposed to do, blow my cover?"_

_Cold, that's an understatement. My friend of eleven years just told me he banged one of his biggest rivals' daughter and he says it as bluntly as if I asked if it were sunny out. "Still, god damn…"_

"_People don't trust you unless you have a little dirt. It doesn't help with the guilt, I'll tell you that."_

"_At least you feel a little guilty but guilty about what? Did you fuck her behind someone's back?" He didn't answer that want, probably didn't want to either. Gar just turned and looked back towards the bay, his brief window of conversation having passed as quickly as the years that separated us. "Nevermind, forget about it. You're right, you didn't want to blow your cover, even if it did mean fucking up. We'll drop it, alright? So, where to now?"_

"_Macie Street, your brain doesn't need directions."_

* * *

><p>"Bone, leader of the North Jump Hoods, this is my personal wrecking machine: Stone."<p>

While Gar might have a few inches height over Cyborg, he still lacks in raw mass. And while Gar might be picked on for being the one token white man in the midst of a room full of gang-bangin' black men, there's little doubt that Stone will be anything but made fun of, especially with that ironclad stare of his.

"Hey."

Still impressed at the size of Stone, Bone asks Gar with a reserved grin on his face. "First you bring some tattooin' goth into my house and now a man who looks like a walking, talking tank… Watchman, no one can say you live a boring life."

"True. In the meantime, we have business to discuss."

"The trace you put on Rose Desade's car works?"

Sitting on the leather couch, Garfield inwardly sighs as the piece of furniture buckles under Cyborg's weight. "Yes, it works. We've been able to pinpoint her location over the past two days and so far we have quite a few promising locations."

"Good to hear." Sitting in his own chair by the glass table, Bone rubs his hands in anticipation. "That means we can finally get ready for the Port attack."

Pulling his trusty map out of his coat pocket, Garfield arranges the paper for the gathered to see. "Before we discuss that, there's something I'd like to show you. Some of my sources have located Desade strongholds in the warehousing district in lower North Jump, storehousings in Berkeley, and a few random locations throughout the North Jump city limits. Still the bulk of their forces are garrisoned at the Port Authority, presumably to protect their interests in the harbor."

"By bulk you mean…?"

"Given the size of the Port, they could have as many as a thousand but probably closer to six hundred or so."

Stone finally enters the discussion. "Six hundred? That's a LOT of security for one section of docks."

"That's because the majority of their drug shipments come through said docks, hence the heightened security."

Ignoring the glare between Bone and Stone, Gar continues his report. "Six hundred might sound like a lot, given our smaller numbers, but that in itself opens us up to other possibilities. With so many Desade soldiers guarding the port, the rest of their strongholds will have fewer numbers. Imagine how hard it'd be hiding five hundred gunmen in one container warehouse. I'm the certified nutcase and even I'm not crazy enough to attempt that."

Cyborg notices that Bone's men have a laugh at Gar's self-depreciating humor but Bone doesn't. For the Hood leader, the question of capability regarding six hundred men against his is deeply concerning. "We can field five hundred of our own crew, no more than that. Going up against a stronghold like the Port might be insanity, with or without the Illuminati's help."

Again Cyborg has to hold his tongue even as Jump City's largest metahuman group is brought into the fray. This wasn't part of the briefing he gave a few days ago…

"With your approval, I believe we have a chance at defeating the Desades before the cease fire expires. Any one have a beer, this could be awhile."

Bone cracks a laugh at that one, recalling with clarity "Shit, where's that skinny white boy at from a few years back, wouldn't even have a beer with me because he was lookin' for a drugged-up serial killer? Get this kid a beer."

Taking a can of some unknown alcoholic beverage, Gar begins with the plan:

"I know we've discussed hitting the Port Authority for some time but that was before we understood their numbers or their locations. Also, it's important to stress that while we can employ five hundred men and several metahumans, going up against a well-guarded, very public facility will be both dangerous as well as risky in terms of increased law enforcement scrutiny."

"So you're against an attack on the Port at this time?"

"Looking at the situation, Bone, I'd say we're in a better position attacking the forces not garrisoned at the Port. Consider that while the majority of their men are guarding the harbor, their majority is only slightly greater than those spread throughout the city."

Cyborg takes his chance to join in, he places a finger rather gently onto the map. "We have a good idea how many troops are in each location as well as the routes needed to reinforce the Port. If we'd launch an attack against the Port itself, they can funnel their troops to the harbor in less than twenty minutes."

"Which means if we don't overthrow the Port in that time, we'll be facing a thousand men rather than six hundred."

Asking for a beer himself, Bone frowns a bit while moving his head in thought. "It's numbers, pure and simple."

"Not to mention tactically smarter. We have five hundred men to throw at any location at a time of our chosing." Point to the map again, this time at the warehousing sector, Gar proposes. "Say this one warehouse has one hundred men? We can attack with numbers, five-on-one. Or, more importantly, we can take one hundred men each and have them assault five locations with equal advantage."

Nevermind the beer, one cigarette is also needed for his thought process. "Divide and conquer… Attack five locations, we can take out half of their force. Then again, we could also lose a lot of guys trying to attack all at once. What's to keep the Port troops from moving to assist their friends?"

Grinning rather darkly, the homeless hero suggests. "We agreed to let the Illuminati attack the Port Authority. Did we ever guarantee we'd be there attacking _with_ them?"

"We can use Dr. Light's metahumans to attack the Port, throw attention off of the real attack. At the same time we move in, shoot up the strongholds, and home by dinner time."

Glancing up from the map at Stone, the gang leader speaks bitterly with the smoke hanging off his lips. "Yeah and a lot of us could be in the fucking ground before lunch, don't forget that."

"I'm a part of this attack so you don't need to worry about me forgetting anything."

"What do you think Bone, does this sound more viable than attacking the Port in force?"

Exhaling the nicotine deep, he leans back in his chair, letting his associates all around him ponder his decision. Going to war's inevitable, the cease fire's coming to an end, but it's up to Bone to endorse an attack on the harbor or on Desade strongholds. "Which do you think will work out better?"

Touching again on his knowledge of Sun Tzu, Gar answers simply "In a battle where both sides are even, those with the best laid plans and firm leadership will prevail."

"And these five places are where your friends are being held I take it?"

Offering his beer up in salute of Bone's keen eye, Gar admits with a grin still on his face "Mama always said the only thing free in this life is Jesus. We take out most of Desade's goons, I get my friends back, and if we're lucky he's begging you not to shove a finely-polished Remington up his ass by St. Patty's Day."

A glance at Gar, a glance at Stone, and finally back to Gar. A smile of his own starting to break onto his face, Bone nods back and forth, chuckling ever so slightly. "Always got a plan within a plan, don't ya you little white shit. Fuck, man, let's go for it, burnin' down warehouses and runnin' the Midnight Express on Desade's daughter all night long." Turning to his one associate, Bone calls out "Get us a pack of cards, we got some business to conduct god damn it."

* * *

><p>"<em>From Bone's house we headed north towards Berkeley, to some tavern Gar claimed he "always wanted to visit." I take back what I said earlier about Gar still having some trace of Beast Boy, that teenager's long gone. In less than five hours he successfully ruined that image, for good or worse I haven't decided yet. He's banged Desade's daughter, become close associates with North Jump's biggest gang-banger, helped plan the coming assault on Antoine Desade's cartel, and now he's asking to be dropped off a some biker bar up in Berkeley.<em>

_I've been wondering if he's told Raven yet about any of this, those two were close the last thing I'd spoken with her. He'd been living with her on-and-off since he'd returned from Gotham back in December. The girl might project an image of no emotion but the woman couldn't have taken down her demonic father if she didn't have SOME emotions. Knowing her she'd be torn up to hear what Gar's been doing, especially when it comes to other women._

_Even stranger to me was the fact that Gar didn't want me to go into the biker bar with him. Apparently this place, "The Tavern", doesn't enjoy having "minorities", another bullshit word for racism if I'd ever heard it. But as Gar put it to me, it wasn't that he was worried about the people inside causing trouble, he was more worried about us getting kicked out from me beating half the bikers to death. Guess that's his way of a compliment or a joke these days, it's hard to tell anymore. All I could do was trust him and hoped he'd get out of the bar safe… and if he thinks I'm likely to beat a couple dozen bikers, I just hoped they wouldn't try to fuck with him…_

* * *

><p>Hours later during the evening of the 13th of February, Garfield Logan finds himself sitting not in a biker bar in Berkeley but rather atop North Jump's largest building: The Ordway Building. While the day hadn't been entirely "eventful", the stage can now be truly set for the days to come. Looking out towards the skyscrapers of Downtown Jump City, the sun seems to vanish behind the concrete pillars, casting the "city of slums" in an ominous, dark shadow.<p>

"Almost a thousand men, all armed and looking for payback… And we're to fight this force with gangbangers, Illuminati dirtbags, and a handful of jaded, world-weary antiheroes… Gar, what have you gotten yourself into this time?"

A blustery wind cuts through the faded fabric of his black trench coat, forcing a shiver down the vigilante's spine. Spring's still a month away, no chance for serious warm temperatures until at least April…

…

Suddenly shaking his head, the green-skinned metahuman snarls at himself in self-loathing. "For fuck's sake, did I _really_ need to fuck the bitch? _Really_? Of all the people to bang, I had to bang _her_. T&P, Raven, fuck even _Livewire_ if I had a silicon dick but NO, I _had_ to bang some cokehead fucking…"

Realizing he's yelling into the air, he takes a moment to calm himself, breathing in the Pacific air slowly, releasing the tension in the air. There's still the nagging sense of guilt that he _willingly_ went along with Rose but, then again, he _had_ been liquored up, or so his ego tells him.

"I can deal with this later, there's more important things to take care of before the attack."

His eyes peer over the side of the four-hundred foot tall building, looking intently towards the downtown area of North Jump. If there's a way to cure his frustrations, it'll be down there. Plenty of muggers, thieves, and would-be rapists to punish, plenty of potential for mayhem and destruction… If only it were so simple to clean it all up with fists and knives.

* * *

><p>AN2: Ok, now I can get the finale done. It's time for some serious warfare... and one big twist of an ending. I wanted to write through Cyborg's perspective for this chapter mainly to give a feel for his view on Gar (and I was aware people wanted some Cy/Gar time but, as always, people catch me at the wrong time in the arcs when they want things.)  
>BTW, it's nice writing Gar as someone who, while mainly cold and calculating these days, still struggles with that humane side of himself (the "Beast Boy" side as I joke)<p>

Trivia:  
>- Ordway Building is the legit tallest building in Oakland (a.k.a. North Jump)<br>- The biker bar is referring to the bar mentioned a few chapters back relating to a certain (Titans era) Nightwing rival.  
>- More Sun Tzu and Jameson references, there's quite a few throughout my Watchman drafts.<p>

Rhetorical: Poor Cyborg, he might as well been a fish out of water this whole chapter.

Shout out: Since I get views from around the world (from Europe to the Middle East to Asia, even South America), I'd like to say: - Dank für Lesen, Gracias por leer, Obrigado pela leitura, Díky za čtení, Спасибо за чтение, 感谢您的阅读, and 読んでいただきありがとうございます!


	22. Chapter 22

A/N: I'm not dead, it's been a very hellacious month for me though. This chapter went up to 1,700 words a few times (four different drafts) but, as always, I WILL NOT post something that I feel isn't up to standard. Having read a few of my old favorite Teen Titans fics lately, I feel that (while good), they never went into detail about the darker aspects of being a hero. At first this chapter is jittery, it's a war chapter... but it was VERY hard for me to write the last third, mainly because it hit the very nerve of the story on the head.**  
><strong>

**Redux 3: There Goes My Hero**

"Hello North Jump, I'm Your Cherry Bomb…"

Chapter Ten:

February 15, 2011:

"_Everything felt so anti-climatic going into the attack, as though I'd spent four years waiting and preparing for something more fulfilling than this. There wouldn't be any "major offensives", fighting in the streets outside Jump City Hall, no epic clash between Antoine Desade and I, and there wouldn't be any media glory to be found. I doubt the media would even care that a group of gangbangers and thugs helped overthrow Jump City's largest drug ring. They wouldn't even bother to consider the effect this would have on the morale of the city; they'd probably spin it into some sort of pro-gun law agenda._

_The day probably felt anti-climatic because I couldn't believe how far I'd come just to confront Desade himself. While I had the chance in 2007 to fight him, looking back now I realize I probably would've been killed long before I even got to him. I'd hate to say that it took multiple brushes with death, a century-long prison term, two years in Arkham, and the complete butchering of any humanity Beast Boy once had… but if that's the price I'd have to pay to end it and get one step closer to Ripper, I'd make it worth every second._

_Three in the morning, two hours before the assault begins. I doubt anyone involved slept, it was only hours away before the largest gang-on-gang battle in the history of the Bay Area, maybe even the country. We'd spent weeks planning for a decisive attack, that one surgical strike that would finally decapitate the Desades, now it was time to see if our efforts bore fruit._

_If Nightwing would've seen this plan, he'd probably be furious and proud at the same time. We planned for a multi-pronged offensive, one that would assault Desade in separate areas to keep him off balance: Illuminati at the Port Authority, Hoods at the five strategic warehouses, and a surprise waiting for Desade's reserves at his other safehouses. As long as Bone and the others could pull through, I'd be able to carry out my part in the mission: Taking out Antoine Desade himself at his safehouse at this abandoned church in upper North Jump. All or nothing at this point; we'd come so far and we couldn't back down now that we were here… Now if I can just quit stalling, we can get this offensive under way."_

* * *

><p>Barely five in the morning in the Bay Area, you wouldn't expect to see someone so young sitting on a bench under a streetlamp, especially in North Jump. While Gar might be alone, the idea of some mugger making a move would only exasperate the tension in his stomach. Veteran "hero" or not, it isn't the same when an entire operation is counting on villains and criminals working together in harmony.<p>

Tapping the earpiece, Gar begins the final check before the attack. "Bone, you ready?"

"_We ain't gonna get any more ready than we already are. You ain't backin' down now I hope?"_

A snort without a sound, Gar's face merely turns sour. "Not a chance. How's your company?"

Obvious confusion in the gang leader's voice, Bone calls back. _"Company?"_

"Military term for a group of around 100."

"_Oh well our… company… are ready to jump. I haven't seen them this ready to go into a shootout before."_

His sour expression turns darker than the night above him. "That's because they haven't been in a real shootout, this isn't a drive by."

"_Yeah, it ain't, but that won't matter once the bullets start comin'."_

"Make sure your companies know what to do."

There might be a middle finger thrown at him but the distance makes that impossible to tell. _"You sound like you need another coffee, Watchman, you don't sound too awake."_

Definitely not a morning person. "I'm not gonna get any more awake than I already am, right?"

"_Ha ha, smartass."_

Much more serious now than the sarcastic reply, Watchman informs the Hood leader. "Bone, make sure your guys remember there's more than just Desades in there. Make sure they know what they're shooting at _before_ they shoot."

"_Hostages and your friends, I got it already."_

Tapping off the earpiece, Gar presses the button once more to check up on the other part of the operation. "Atomic Skull, this is Watchman."

"_Cuttin' it a little close if you want an update."_

First Bone's overly awake and Skull's bitchy, not a good start to a black dawn. "Then we'll make it fast: Illuminati forces ready?"

"_We're across the street from the Desade-controlled section of the dock, we're ready."_

"Good. In three minutes, do your worst."

One more tap on the earpiece, Gar makes a general call to Cyborg, Livewire, and Question. Where they've chosen to hide inside their respective warehouses is beyond him but hopefully they'll be awake to hear it. "Attack will begin in two minutes. Get ready, this could get loud."

* * *

><p>As the appointed time comes closer by the second, Atomic Skull takes one last look at the force Dr. Light has granted him for the attack. Not too many metahumans, only rookies recently drafted into the group. Truth be told, he's probably more experienced and more powerful than half the combined force. "Just hope the Doc ain't makin' a mistake helpin' the little green shit."<p>

"Thirty seconds."

At the very least the ferrokinetic Light found should be more useful than the other recruits. If she can melt the Hood's weapons while that close, maybe she'll give a good leg-up over the Desades. "You ready?"

The quiet woman merely nods in agreement, looking towards the gate. While Atomic Skull provides the artillery, someone needs to rip through the gates to let the attack flow smooth.

"Fifteen seconds…"

Bone takes one final drag of his cigarette and throws it behind his body. To the right and left of him are forty to fifty Hood fighters all lying down on the ground to avoid being seen. The rest of the company devoted to this warehouse is spread around the corners, surrounding and (hopefully) ready to overwhelm the warehouse.

At seven seconds, the Watchman rises off the bench to pop his back muscles. As the clock reaches three seconds, he slides his hands into his pockets, turning in the direction of his own target. When the clock on his wrist reaches zero, all he can mutter to himself is a mournful "No more watching, Desade, here we come."

* * *

><p>The first thing any Desade goon might see from the attack is the curious sight of a large, green fireball streaking through the morning air. Unaware that this is the first volley of a mighty offensive, they only watch with awe as the green orb comes crashing down on a forklift, destroying the vehicle and the cargo in its grasp. Before they can fully grasp the assault, two more fireballs come in, taking out other targets of opportunity. For three Desade fighters, however, they will have never known they were the first victims of the largest gang-led offesnvie in years.<p>

Ripping off the gates with her mind, the way is open for the Illuminati troops to begin the assault. While the metahumans fan out and start using their assorted abilities, the supporting non-meta forces close in with rifles and other firearms. Atomic Skull leads the way, using his nuclear flame attacks on any vehicle or position worthy of his wrath. "Spread out and start clearing the buildings! We'll hold the center!"

* * *

><p>There's no artillery for Bone's group or the other Hood companies throughout the city. Rather than opening fire instantly, Bone's ordered his men to get as close to the gates of the buildings and begin attacking only when discovered. Problem is that even a guard with terrible sight can still see forty men charging, even at night. Smashing his hand on an alarm, he tries to draw his sub-machinegun when the curious impact of lead bursts through his skull.<p>

"They know we're here! Shoot anyone who resists and DON'T shoot the hostages!"

* * *

><p>If Marin Desade thought living with a cokehead sister and sadist father was annoying enough, having been woken up by the sound of fireworks and grenades is even worse. Looking to the clock, Marin groans as though not aware of the situation. "What the hell <em>time<em> is it?"

While there might be knocks on the door by unknown fighters to alert Marin, there's no chance of that happening. Thanks to a finely wedged door and two door jams, the man staring over at Marin Desade looks as calm as can be.

"Who… who the _fuck_ are you?!"

Stepping forward despite the sound of harsh banging on his door, the moonlight in the window reveals this intruder's face… or rather lack of. "_Who_ indeed."

"You'd think after all I'd done for the big green man he'd let me do something a little more fun than _this_?" After electrocuting a man trying to use his cellphone to call Desade, Livewire appears in her human form, hands sparking with energy. "Still, when in Troy, do like the… wait, that didn't sound right…" Shooting another man with her lightning powers, she places a finger to her lip. "Now, I wonder where ol' T&P could've run off to?"

Where Question favored stealth and Livewire employed infiltration, Stone prefers to just use his fists. Bursting through the side of a warehouse door, he quickly dives out of the way of incoming MG and pistol fire. Cybernetic or not, he's still got human parts and blood still bleeds the same way. Then again, being robotic has its perks: Advanced sight being one of them. With the Hoods at this building flooding into the hole, Stone calls out to the first squad in. "Yo, give me cover on the right! I'm gonna make a run for the office upstairs, grab the hostage and run!"

"Yeah right, I can't cover _all that_!"

Snarling, Stone yells back in frustration. "Do I LOOK like I got a cannon on my arm or something?! I can't just fire missiles out my butt, can I?! Just shoot and I'll run!"

* * *

><p>In the distance Gar's sensitive hearing can pick out what appears to be gunfire and explosions, something the early morning air in North Jump isn't too used to. Sure there's the occasional drive by or car bomb but nothing that'd suggest a <em>war<em>. For him, however, there's no need to make noise, no need for sunglasses or firearms. Up ahead there's a square building, a cathedral that's been damaged by fire and abandoned after the church sex scandals of the 2000s. Any other onlooker might consider the church an eyesore and something to be avoided; for Gar this is quite the opposite. Sneaking into the place wouldn't be hard but there's the pesky issue of outside guards to be resolved first… and he'll need the warm-up before the main event.

* * *

><p>Having secured the rear of the building, Question doesn't have any trouble dropping Marin Desade down a floor to the Hoods waiting below. A broken leg and a lot of screaming won't help his case so there's a swift foot across his face as punishment. Question uses a length of rope to escape, something the Desades will curse out to no end once that door finally breaks down.<p>

"You got it from here?"

Question doesn't mind the fact the Hoods flinch at the sight of his blank face, he's too busy eyeing up the high-value target he just claimed for himself. "Of course. It's time the son of Desade and I had a little chat."

"Get him out of here, we need to push the attack inside."

* * *

><p>While Bone sends in advance forces to secure the building he's outside of, the first good news enters his radio… and only four minutes into the attack. <em>"Calling from Warehouse C, we've captured Marin Desade! Watchman's friend, that dude without the face is moving him now!"<em>

A wide grin breaking across his face, Bone yells out to anyone who can hear him over the gunfire. "Hey! They caught Desade's son at Warehouse C!"

At first the sounds of quite a lot of happy voices rings out, an odd sight with bullets ringing all over the place. The second sound is the sound of an armored bank car, modified with a mean-looking M240B medium machine gun on top bursting through the warehouse inside. No cheers of happiness there, only the look of a dozen or so exposed Hoods and the sound of a hammer being pulled back.

"GET BACK!"

* * *

><p>While the metahumans of the Illuminati press forward in the center, pretty much sweeping up heavy sections of defenders, the non-metahuman "recruits" sweep through buildings and sheds, looking for any snipers or Desade hold outs. While attacking Atomic Skull might as well be suicide, the Desades aren't too far off when it comes to Illuminati regulars.<p>

A two-man team of regulars move into a two-story storage building, guns forward and ready to drop anything in sight. Pointing in silence, they feel satisfied they've cleared the building. Problems arise when they reach the top of the steps and realize there's no one inside, only empty crates. "No one in, move out."

They fail to notice that as they turn for the steps, a satchel charge happens to be thrown up the steps, landing six feet away, appropriate really.

Atomic Skull howls with anger as someone dares to fire an RPG round at him. His anger is cut off as a bag of explosives blows apart the storage room, sending shrapnel their way and taking out a half dozen regulars. Other explosions burst across the flanks, revealing the Desade method of attack to the Illuminati veteran. "They're going after the recruits! Spread out, don't let them go in alone!" He's extremely lucky to have turned and called out to his forces. Had he not, the poker card that was aimed for his heart might have dug deep into his heart. "What the?!"

While Atomic Skull might have walked through the battlefield while shot and shell was all around him, the hired gun of the Desades dares to walk through hell as easily as a giant through children. "Of all the beasts and devils walking His fine Earth, of all the wicked souls who would dare pollute His Earth, of all the treacherous fiends who dare flaunt their insidious means before His creation, you would appear to be number one on my list. The Lord does not reveal to me where the heathen Watchman may be at this juncture but I rejoice in seeing that _you_ shall take his place." Snapping his cards about his body, the Baptist merely grins "Let's go, devil."

* * *

><p>Having helped the Hoods clear a path, Stone charges through a hail of gunfire and grenades. Just narrowly being sent home in a coffin on a few occasions, the Titan-in-disguise runs up the steel steps leading to the office above… Luckily his legs aren't made of flesh and bone; he might not have made it up under this kind of fire. Hopefully the other warehouses aren't doing quite so bad or else this whole thing could fall apart before they can secure the hostages.<p>

Kicking down the door to where former detective Rebecca Sinclair's supposed to be, he's greeted by the sight of the hostage alive and kicking… then again, the room's _other_ occupant happens to be drawing her hands up, finger's extending into very sharp blades. "I'm glad you've made it, here's your _prize_."

* * *

><p>"Bone! We're gettin' killed out here and that ain't fair!"<p>

Gnashing his teeth, he uses one of his select few grenades and throws it at the armored car. The sight of his dead comrades outside of the warehouse has incensed his rage enough but that M240B just _needs_ to be wrecked and _now_!

His eyes dart to his side as one of his friends arrives, breathing heavily with an RPG on his back. "Sorry Bone, that machine gun's pinnin' everyone down!"

"Don't look at me, _shoot that fucking machine gun!"_

Still having trouble breathing, the Hood nods, bending up to one knee and fetching out a round for his launcher.

"BONE!"

Waving his hand, the leader urges his men to stay down even as the heavy rounds punch through the concrete around them. "Where's that RPG, boy?!"

Standing up enough to take a shot, the man takes aim with the round, using the sight to hit square in the center… but there's no shot. A well-placed round from an unseen Desade sniper takes out the Hood before the round can fire.

Bone's eyes are wide for a moment, seeing his friend on the ground with a finely-bored whole in the midst of his eyes. "Fuck… fuck fuck fuck FUCK FUCK!" Dropping his weapon, Bone takes the rocket launcher for himself. "EVERYONE! I WANT COVERING FIRE ON THAT SECOND FLOOR NOW!"

"But?"

"FIRE RIGHT NOW OR I'LL SHOOT YOU!" Picking up the RPG, it doesn't help his nerves when he sees the M240B turn to aim at him. The covering fire begins to crack out, bullets sparking off the armored car and the warehouse windows, hopefully killing the sniper. The distracting fire forces the machine gunner to drop for a moment to cover, enough for Bone to smile and shout. "Smile _motherfucker!_!"

* * *

><p>The Hoods downstairs have the Desades engaged, plenty of men are engaged in the fighting and so few have remained to guard the door leading to T&amp;P. Not that Livewire cares much, metal-based firearms just make <em>shocking<em> the men that much easier. Still it doesn't appease the metahuman's ego; she _had_ been expecting a tougher fight.

Entering the room, there's a notable look of surprise on her face. "T&P, where's your guards? I thought one of the Desade kids was supposed to be here?!"

Beaten and bloodied though still retaining her sense of irony, the tattoo artist/criminal cooly replies "Must've put the _zap_ into them. You mean Marin Desade wasn't out there with the others?"

Closing the door, Livewire shakes her head in the negative. "No, he was supposed to be here… unless…"

* * *

><p>With Marin Desade in the passenger side of his blue Shelby, Question seems completely at ease with the world. It wasn't as if this part wasn't part of the <em>plan<em>, everything in life happens to be part of a much bigger scheme.

"_Question! Where the fuck are you?!"_

Tapping his ear once, he easily takes the turn into downtown North Jump. "Heading back to drop off the package. How's the attack?"

"_How's the attack?! What do you mean PACKAGE?!"_

"I'd make sure T&P was safe before you start getting all worked up." Noticing the young man next to him is starting to wake, he delivers a swift punch to stop him in his tracks. "Besides, I'm sure Stone will need some help by now."

"_And why's that?"_

Adjusting his rear view mirror, he remarks frankly "Rose Desade won't be happy when she hears her brother's gone missing."

* * *

><p>"Well, I underestimated you lady, you got some moves." Rubbing at his grey-skinned chest, "some moves" might actually be an understatement.<p>

Her knife-like fingers look more appropriate for Freddy Krueger than a Jump City gangster. Then again, given the blood-red eyes, she might not be too far off from being a monster. "So, you working for the _Hoods_, huh big boy? You just another one of their _homies_?"

Standing big and tall, much taller than she is, Stone cracks a knuckle to remind her "I work for nobody but myself. Let Ms. Sinclair go and you won't need to go to the hospital."

Frenzy in her eyes, the drugged-up daughter of Antoine Desade licks at her lips, smirking with delight. "I dare you."

Gesturing his hand as Robin would, Stone offers her a simple reply "Just bring it."

And while Rose Desade might be mighty sharp with her hands, Stone's well known for his strength. Rather than engaging her hand-to-hand, the large cyborg merely grabs her in mid-air and throws her hard against the wall behind him. Judging from the way her head bounced back and the groan of pain, seems there's some pain coke just can't hide.

* * *

><p>"Have to admit, you're pretty determined for a guy who doesn't have any powers." Not moving an inch since the Baptist interjected himself, the Atomic Skull merely uses his powers to either punch the razor cards away or burn them in mid-flight.<p>

Then again, the Baptist hasn't moved from his original spot either. "And I've got to admit you're pretty strong for a devil. It's a pity you're not working for your redemption from the Lord, He might still have a use for you in His plan."

Cracking his knuckles, the nuclear titan belts out a fantastic roar, finally leaving his feet to charge the hitman. "I'm gonna take that cross of your's and shove it down your throat!"

Adjusting his hands to make shapes and patterns, the cards in the Baptist's coat go wild, flying all about as though caught in a vortex of wind. "I'd advise you ask for forgiveness before I put out your flame for good, devil."

Rearing back his fist, Atomic Skull defies the threat "Sorry, all out of forgiveness."

Bursting alight with the brightest flash of the night, the poker cards Baptist had unleashed glow with the radiance of 104 cards laced with magnesium powder. Brighter than a hundred camera bulbs, even Atomic Skull is forced to back down at the flash.

"Fear the Light of the Lord, devil, and repent lest ye be struck down to Inferno!"

* * *

><p>Across town, a gathering of vans, trucks, cars, and armored bank cars have gathered, all packed with Desade fighters: Desade's reinforcement incase of s<em>uch an attack.<em>

"_The boss wants us to counter-attack the Hood's assault, the Baptist and Madame Rouge's allies will defend the Port! C'mon, we don't have much time!"_ For barely 5:15 in the morning, the CB radios in the convoy sound like an army column rather than drug cartel fighters.

With the convoy underway, they make a turn onto an avenue that will lead them to Bone's location, hopefully. With all the chaos and confusion, it could be the wrong sector Desade ordered them to go but with this much firepower, it shouldn't take long to…

"_Hey, we got a problem back here!"_

The lead car in the convoy calls back to his rear vehicle. _"What's wrong?"_

"_We're not the only convoy on the road!"_

"_WHAT?!"_

Hollering and cheering, engines sounding like valkryies of destruction, the menace has been unleashed on North Jump once again. Looking in their mirrors, both towards the road and the pavement, bikers by the dozens go speeding up to match their pace. Not only are these bikers crazy, driving so erratically this early in the morning, their leader gives out the order they've been dying to hear.

Johnny Rancid will have no one escape this place alive. "Kill every stinking last one of those Desade scum! Anyone who lets one live will be _executed!_ The Watchman's paying us for destruction, we don't disappoint!"

* * *

><p>By 5:30, the attack is nearly done. Without the armored car, it seems the Desades inside have lost heart and are starting to surrender to Bone's troops. It doesn't help that there's been no word from Marin or Rose Desade and what they can get from Antoine sounds frantic. There have been promises of reinforcement from their reserve troops but there's been confusing sounds of disarray on the CBs.<p>

However, it's not the greatest day for Bone. Stepping out of the warehouse with a noticeable limp, the bodies of the fallen are strewn throughout the warehouse yard. It's a miracle no police have shown up yet but it's time to get the show on the road, they've done they're part.

"Bone?! Are you alright?!"

Staggering a little worse now, Bone finally realizes something's wrong, noticing his leg isn't moving quite as well as it should be. "Yeah… I think… Might've taken some shrapnel when the car exploded… but…"

"Bone, they shot you in the ass!"

* * *

><p>At the Port Authority Baptist has gained the upper hand, using a combination of flash cards and explosive decks to beat the Atomic Skull back. It doesn't help that the few Desades that have escaped the Sons of Rancid have joined in the attack, helping push even the metahumans back with their second effort. Seems the beating they took from the bikers only inspired them to continue.<p>

"You are beaten, devil. Repent and you may one day be released from Inferno."

Snarling as the would-be preacher dares insult him, Atomic Skull curses out the religious freak. "You don't have the fucking balls to beat me one-on-one, you hide behind your poker cards like a…"

"That word better be tabby cat because if it rhymes with something else, the Lord will be offended." Behind him are the cheers of the Desades as the metahumans and criminals under Madame Rouge arrive on the scene, looking anxious to get into the fight. "Ah, pleasant to see the whore's follower's still have the nerve to show up in combat, wouldn't you say devil?"

It's said "devil" who gets the last laugh. With the smuggest of grins, Atomic Skull warns "Don't be so sure."

"What the? Hey, what the fuck, they're shooting at _us_!"

Snapping his head behind to see what the noise is about, the Baptist grows several shades whiter as he sees a ball-like figure, "Baby Doc" as he's been told, crashing into a Desade fighter, the impact breaking his ribcage. "My God, they've _turned_ on us?"

Rolling his shoulders, Atomic Skull gloats "If they won't come for God, they'll come for money."

Gnashing his own teeth, the Baptist spits in hate "You'd go _that_ far?"

Two boomerangs twirl through the air, snapping into Baptist's hand which drop the decks on instinct. "Sorry there, Johnnie'O, but we can't have you fightin' with Dr. Light's favorite bruiser, can we?"

As Firefly and others begin attacking the Desade fighters, Illuminati's remaining soldiers and metahumans renew their attack… it's not looking good for the drug cartel.

"How about it, Baptist, how large of a donation will it take to keep the church in business?"

* * *

><p>With the outside guards taken out, it's time for Gar to steel his courage and push forward. Beyond the front door of the old church should be the man who set him on this path… and if it ends here, there shouldn't be any regrets.<p>

Taking a breath, he nods in acknowledgement and even offers something of a prayer by crossing himself at the door of the church. "Sorry, I don't like causing a mess in your house but you'll have to forgive me, there's some rats inside and it would be rude to let them stay."

Changing into a spider, the tiny insect moves under the door as not to attract any attention.

Inside the cathedral, the spider changes into a mouse so that he can get to a better vantage point. While he moves onto a statue to listen to their conversation, he takes in the view in earnest. With all the dust and debris from the previous fire strewn throughout the building, it's a miracle that Desade and Madame Rouge could form some sort of temporary HQ. There's radios and computers, even what looks like a few beds and water coolers. Again, _temporary_, but still no one would think to look for Desade in an old church.

On the phone, it seems the leader of the cartel isn't very pleased at all. "I don't care how early it is, our warehouses are under attack, did you hear THAT? You're my reserve force for a reason, _this_ is the reason! Get your asses out of bed and go reinforce our men, Bone and his Hoods are making us look like amateurs!"

Madame Rouge paces about the room, trying to maintain a sense of calm while the aging crimelord vents into the phone. "My associates should be at the Port Authority soon, they will have no trouble repulsing the attack. Atomic Skull is, well, rather crude…"

Ignoring the ex-Brotherhood criminal, Desade shouts back into the phone "And can we _please_ find out why Marin and Rose aren't calling back?! Those two aren't kids, they couldn't _possibly_ lose this early in the fight, I simply won't _believe_ it!"

Jumping down from the statue's head, the mouse shifts forms on contact, revealing the Watchman for all to see. There's no need for a holoring here, only the truth need be spoken. "Oh but _seeing_ is _believing_, Desade."

Dropping the phone out of surprise, even Madame Rouge turns with an expression of shock on her face. "How… how did you find…?"

Standing up to his full height now, the Watchman merely levels his gaze apon them "How? You should be more careful who your daughter _fucks_, Antoine Desade, she might just bring him home to meet the _parents_."

If Desade was getting over his shock, Madame Rouge has already gone into anger. "How DARE you! You come in here while your friends are killing our fighters and you DARE look at us with that ridiculous grin on your face?!"

Funny, there doesn't appear to be a grin on his face at all. "I dare." Balling his fist, Gar announces without the slightest hint of remorse "And it's hard to call your goons "fighters" when they're about to be beaten by street thugs and metahumans."

"We haven't _lost_ yet, Watchman! We have reinforcements coming, we _will_ turn the tide."

Grinning herself, Madame Rouge adds to Desade's point. "You did not count on us having a backup plan, did you?"

A long pause before Watchman finally asks bluntly "_What_ reinforcements? I don't recall them ever making it?"

…

There's more than just a look of shock on their faces now, it's one of a growing fear. The Beast Boy both met years ago was never this calm, never this stoic. It's Madame Rouge who asks the obvious question. "What did you do?"

Stepping forward a pair of paces, Watchman replies in a very ominous tone "Used the Hoods to engage hostage-held warehouses; Illuminati against the Port Authority; and I employed the Sons of Rancid to attack your so-called reinforcements. I want you to know that Rose will forever have my gratitude, I couldn't have done it without her."

For a moment it would appear Gar does have the upper hand… that is until Desade asks with less fear in his voice. "Hostage-held warehouses? How many did you recover?"

Narrowing his eyes, Gar asks "Why?"

"It's hard to collect all three when we didn't keep all three with our forces, isn't it?"

Perhaps if Gar had been looking, he wouldn't need Desade to point a flashlight at the back of the hall. His low-light vision would be able to see a very bloody, very weak-looking Jake Dewalt sitting bound in a chair. With his fangs coming out in hate, Gar asks a very direct question "Is he dead?"

"Dead? Shit, why would I want him _dead_? After all the _trouble_ he and his friends put me through throughout my life, I should want him tortured and _broken_ before I'd want him dead."

Putting an arm out, Madame Rouge stops Desade from stepping further. "I will handle this, I owe you for having buried the past, do I know?"

"You always were a pain in my ass, Rouge… But by all means, ladies first."

Arms extending out, her fluid-like nature takes over, extending into a tree of spines and spikes, whipping about and ready to strike at a heartbeat's notice. "I have to admit you impress me with your strategy, it was well thought out. However, you have underestimated both Desade and me, Watchman. You will learn some by the end of this twilight."

Reaching into his coat for his shotgun, the vagrant pulls forth the Mossberg and aims at Rouge. This action needs no words but it's intention is very clear.

"Is that a firearm? Watchman, you are no fool, you know that firearms will not hurt _me_."

Eyeing down the sight, Gar calls out "Let's find out, can you handle solid slug?" One round in, he pulls back the trigger and fires the 12 gauge round. Unsurprisingly the veteran criminal merely absorbs the blast, bouncing a few times for balance, then spits the bullet back out onto the floor. "Hmm, seems some things don't change."

Still extending out her arms like a tree of woe, she cackles in delight "See? You cannot hope to harm me, not with that primitive weapon."

Without breaking a sweat, Gar produces a red-colored shell from his pocket, holding it up so she can see it. "How about we try something with more of a scattering effect?"

Incuriously, the Frenchwoman dares without humor this time "Did you not understand? Shoot me, you will not hurt me. No bullet can."

Face as placid as a flat lake, Gar loads the chamber and looks down the barrel. "_Nothing?_"

As the hammer strikes the shell, no bird or buckshot exits the chamber. Rather, a stream of ignited zirconium "pyrotechnic" fire spews from the barrel, the flare catching Madame Rouge head on like wind crashing into a ship's sail. There is a scream, that much Desade and Watchman know. Something smells ominously like burning meat, nothing to stop the screaming however. Before Desade can call her name, Gar's already flown up into the rafters, allowing Madame Rouge to run from the church screaming bloody murder, her body shifting to-and-fro while trying to resist the flame's effects.

Back as a human on the floor, Gar looks to the rear of the church and mutters. "Could've closed the door at least, it'll get cold now."

"… How could you? How could you set a _woman on fire?_" Desade's nowhere near calm now, only the feeling of hate and rage seem to pour through his blood.

Looking at his hated enemy, the Watchman growls back "How could you feed innocent people your White Rabbit?!"

"So you'll set a person on _fire_ over me?!"

There's no need to keep space between them anymore, it's time for some punishment, Watchman-style. "I've done _time_ over you and your kind, Desade, _time _in the _hole_, time in the _asylum_, time in the lowest parts of the _ocean_, lowest parts of my _soul_… I've seen far worse than burning flesh, Antoine Desade, now it's my turn to return the favor."

It appears that the rage that flows through Antoine Desade has started to mix with… is that a smile? "Oh, you're going to make me _suffer_ for what I've done to _you_, is that _it_? Well you can beat me, _torture_ me, but don't you see it doesn't _matter_? I've taken so much from you and I've only one live to shed."

Cracking his neck, Gar closes the gap to about five paces. "That's where you're wrong. I _will_ hurt you, I _will_ torture you… but first you're going to give me something I _want_."

"I'm not a psychiatrist, boy."

"Ripper. _I want Ripper_."

Perhaps pissing the boy off wasn't such a good idea after all. "What about Ripper? He betrayed me just like he'll betray Void and those other bastards who set me up."

"Details aren't important; I _want_ details. Where do I _find him_?"

There's something in the man's tone that isn't quite _normal_, even in Desade's ear. It's almost like the kid's about to turn into some kind of _monster_. "I don't know, he comes to us, we don't even know what he's up to."

Taking off his coat, he absently throws the garment onto an empty pew. "You _will_ talk, Antoine, even if I have to beat it out of that wrinkled head of your's."

"Suit yourself, if that's how you want this to be." Taking a few steps back, he slides out a box from under his radio table. "I need to get my _toys_ if I'm going to have some fun with you." Before Gar can stop him, Desade shows surprising agility in pulling out a long length of chain. Unhooking it into three lengths, he takes two lengths and ties them around his forearms, the other, longer chain for a flail in his hands. "I'm ready if you are."

The fight begins in earnest, Gar attempts to move in for a punch but Desade uses his right forearm to blunt the attack, pressing the chain forward for a choke. The Watchman will have none of that, a swift knee to the side of the hip stops that attack. Sure enough the old cartel boss starts to _laugh_ at the pain in his side. "Good, I see you're _spry_ for someone you're age, I like that."

"Drop that chain and you'll see just how _spry_ I really am."

Shaking his head, the cartel boss starts to swing the chain like a rope "No, I don't think so. This ain't no bullrope but it'll sting like you've never believed."

Jump to the side, just a bit of the arc, another hop to the side, Antoine's got a full bullets left in those arms, even for someone who's nearing 60. One of his attempted slashes with the chain misses Gar and takes out the CB radio he'd been using, another slash cracks a pew down the center of it's seat.

"Gotta say, you got some power left in those arms. Tell me where to find Ripper and I'll only break _one_."

"_Cute_, boy, but you won't get anywhere _near_ my arm!" Using an extra windup, Desade manages to catch a weakspot in Gar's duck-and-move. Slashing across his own hip, the criminal defies Gar's wrath "Hip for a hip, _eye for an eye._"

Catching the chain, the Watchman merely grunts. "Eye for an eye? Wish granted." Pulling in the chain as hard as he can, Gar's skull makes contact just above Desade's right eye, turning the skin black and swollen fast. Just as before, the cartel leader _again_ laughs at the pain, hissing and giggling at the same time. "You're sick, Desade, a real fucking sadist."

Blood threatening to pour from the wound, Desade corrects the young vagrant. "I'm _not_ a sadist, _Watchman_, its pronounced _maschochist!_"

Elbowing a half-blinded Desade in the same spot on the eyebrow, Gar shouts back "It doesn't matter what it's called!"

Stepping back some to collect some distance, the crazed leader only laughs further. "You… oooh… I _love_ how you drive home a _point_… Oh, why couldn't you be _my_ age?"

"This guy's too much." Running up to Desade, Gar lays into the criminal with a punch to the gut, one across the temple, and a back-of-the-head blow with his forearm. "_That_ what you like, you sick freak?!"

Coughing on the ground, the older man starts to force himself to a kneel "_Depends_, I normally don't get too many people like you… Try the leg, that always made me feel _real warm and fuzzy_."

Following through on his request, Gar punts the man's leg like a soccer ball, bringing a howl of pain-induced pleasure in the man. "Oooooh, you _get_ it, don't you? Sssss…. Damn, you like _steel-toed_, huh?"

"You're making me feel _bad_, Desade, I didn't think you'd go down _this easy_!" Backhanding the criminal across the face, Gar makes a point to remind him of some of his failures. "Deadshot put me through a chase, Baptist put me in the hospital, even your daughter could fight better than you! So what's the fucking hold up, _Desade_, or are you such a fucking _twisted_ freak that you'd rather get off on my fist?!"

"What… did you expect… something else? What's the matter? Can't break me, can you? Ooooh, you like to _dish it_ but you don't like it when someone doesn't _give it back?_"

No kick to the ribs this time, this time Watchman brings a foot down into Desade's stomach, bringing the air right of the man's throat. "I went through _HELL_ because of you and your asshole friends across the Bay. It took me four years, FOUR YEARS to get my revenge… and all you can do is blow a load in your pants over it! You make me so sick, you degenerate piece of shit, beating and torturing people just to make yourself feel _good_?!"

There's some blood now coming out of the mouth of Antoine Desade but still this doesn't stop him from getting the joke in. "Coming from you, that's pretty funny… How many… of my men… did you beat, torture… just to get… to me? Even… my daughter…hmm?"

Pausing, his fist still in the air, Gar finally cracks under the pressure of the situation. Getting down to his knees, he begins pummeling Desade straight in the face, the nose area in particular "I'm NOTHING like you! I'm NOT LIKE ANY OF YOU! YOU BASTARDS TOOK AWAY EVERYTHING I HAD, DON'T YOU DARE LIE THERE AND MOCK ME!"

Coughing out more blood, Desade seems ready to pass out, there's no need to further provoke the boy. "So… why wait… get it over with… kill me…"

Unknown to Gar, his eyes firmly fixed on the bloody mess that is Antoine Desade's face, his hand and shirt is covered in crimson fluid. Even parts of his own face has blood stains, no doubt from the bile that came out from the man's mouth… "No…"

Turning over to let some blood out, Desade whispers "You must… if you don't… "

Standing up, Gar shakes his head but there's no more of that self-control he had coming in. "No… I won't… Death might not mind but… I'm still human, damn it."

One arm on the ground, another feeling limp, he tries to rise to his feet at least but seems to have some trouble. "If you don't… Ripper will keep coming… He won't stop… Kill me… and he _might_ let you go…"

Stepping back in his own personal shock, Gar starts to stammer a little. "Wha… what are… what are you getting at?"

Flopping onto the ground like a fish on his stomach, Desade speaks again "He's testing you… he doesn't want… Beast Boy… he wants… the Watchman… kill me… and you'll… no longer be Beast Boy…"

"Testing me, he's been _toying_ with me, even now. He's not even brave enough to show his _face_ near me and still he's _testing_ me?! Tell me, what exactly does he _want_ with me?!"

And then it comes from the top of the stained glass at the front of the room, that sound of crackling laughter and rattling teeth. Gar looks up through crimson blood and salty tears to see a man with half a face "nailed" as it were to the cross. "Ripper… you bastard…"

"Well, I'm glad to see you still _remember_ me, Watchman. I see you've grown up since I've last seen you."

The fear and loathing both mix inside his body now, forming one inescapable feeling of dread AND anguish… Killing Desade like this might be wrong but killing _Ripper_ is NEVER wrong. Slowly, anger-filled, the Watchman calls out. "Get down here, murderer. Face me!"

"Of course." Hoping down from the cross, the half-faced monster approaches the chair where the sleeping Jake is still bound. Placing a gray hand on his shoulder, Ripper suggests "Should I make this man's dreams permanent or shall I turn the other cheek as these false Gods would proclaim?"

Eyes burning green, starting to turn into pure energy, Gar hisses in hate. "Leave him alone, Ripper. I'm here, if you want me dead, then kill _me_ but spare _him_."

Tapping Jake once again, still he doesn't awake. "Deep sleeper, wouldn't you say? Why should I _spare_ him, you'll only be _delaying_ the inevitable when I see to it that's he's killed?"

"You wanted to see me become a _monster_…" Time's starting to slow down, this isn't good… maintain, maintain… losing now could mean Jake's life! "… and if you don't move your hand, you'll get what you wished _for_."

Dripping with oily fluids, the tongue of the half-beast comes out, licking his teeth as though in thought. "Have you finally obtained control of that which makes you unfit for this world?"

Body tensing up, he can feel the muscles in his face wanting to change into a more crocodilian form, one he only unleashed in the presence of evil twice in his life. "Do I _look_ like I've mastered it?! The last time I did this, a hundred men died because of you!"

Tongue receding, Ripper does take his hand off Jake but only takes one step past in order to better observe the Watchman. "I want to see it; I want to see what you can _really_ do. Otherwise you've just wasted six weeks and hundreds of useless flies taking down this cartel."

"Fine… Ripper, I'm going to tear you LIMB FROM LIMB!" Body finally losing its grip on the mind, the animal inside takes over. No more Watchman, no more "Beast Boy", only pure hate and anger. It doesn't take quite so long but the crocodile-like face and werewolf-like body of the creature finally emerges, eyes glowing with evil intent. No bats or bees, no swirling wind or snarling throats, only a beast that's about to be let off the leash.

However, it's Ripper who comes to life with an angry snarl of his own. "You have transformed your _body_ but you STILL have no gained control!" Using a cane in his coat, he rears back and hits the creature in the face so hard that he's thrown into the fourth row of the pews. "HOW do you expect to beat the Illuminati or even Bulletface's army when you cannot even control YOURSELF?! You EMBRASS me, Watchman, you EMBARSS me to no end!"

Emerging from his beast self, Gar feels the sharp pain stinging throughout his face, there's a beautifully long gash running across his forehead as though a knife went through butter. "How… how did you hit me so _hard_?"

Frustrated, Ripper turns to Desade and picks him up into his arms. "You truly are a child, _Beast Boy_… no, _Garfield Logan_! If you have any hope of saving this city from me, you will need control over that abomination of an animal form. Until then, _I'LL_ be watching."

* * *

><p>Outside of the cathedral, sometime after the ordeal with Ripper, Gar and a numb Jake sit on the steps, bandages abound. While Jake tries to find his way through the haze in his head, Gar's trying to keep his head from bleeding all over the floor. More importantly to him, however, he's trying to keep from killing the first person he sees in bitter hatred. It's one thing to be <em>angry<em>, it's another to be _disappointed_… but to be _embarrassed_ that he'd fall so quickly to Ripper and beat Desade so easily? It might be a new day for the Bay Area but Gar's sure that the worst has yet to come… and if he can't even master himself, how _could_ he find the strength to overcome Ripper?

* * *

><p>AN2: So, that wraps up the "Cherry Bomb" arc... it had elements I've been wanting to use for sometime (the church fight being the longest one, also a nod to Draft One having Gar/Desade's first fight in a burnt church in North Jump). I've been thinking lately just how OOC I've taken Gar, to the point where he's his own character now. For example, I can literally write up to 10 different ideas now (ranging from him fighting T.J. White again, him being captured by the League, "Blackest Night", anything) so it's hard for me to pick ideas, hence the slower updates.

Trivia:  
>- Too many JLJLU quotes, they're everywhere.  
>- I finally got the "sadistmaschochist" joke right, it only took 4 years.  
>- Like Stone saying "I don't have a cannon in my arm, missiles in my butt?" Cyborg in-joke.<p>

Rheotrical:  
>- A big thank you, again, to the few readers I have left. I do think of you when I write this, hence why I've become so harsh on myself if I don't present good material. I feel as someone who enjoys writing and reading this (and has the talent to write decent material), I wouldn't post anything I wouldn't read.<br>Also, isn't it amazing to think this entire story concept came from an idea I had in 2008 "What would happen if Beast Boy ever got drunk?"


	23. Bad Case of Ruby Red

A/N: The storm (for my neck of the woods) has passed... it was brutal. The Jersey shore took a massive blow, worse than Irene last year. Most of my vacations in life have been to the Jersey shore and now it looks like a modern-day Atlantis. New York is worse off, just from the pictures it looks like shit honestly hit the fan. I didn't update last night because power was out between midnight and noon today so here you are. It's a mini-arc, maybe just a solo piece, but something with a lighter tone (this storm has me really meloncholy)

**Redux 3: There Goes My Hero**

"Bad Case of Ruby Red…"

Chapter One:

March 1, 2011:

The windows of Jump City rattle tightly as another spark of lightning cuts through the Pacific sky. As if February's bloodbath wasn't bad enough, now the city finds itself caught in a thunderstorm that's going on its third day. A casual glance around the region's many diners and social hotspots might reveal the population's disdain for the continuing storm, for what it's worth at least.

When you're driving a well-polished luxury sedan, the rain doesn't seem quite so bad… or at least the driver might believe so. Adjusting the mirror a bit at a stop light, the woman in black and white quirks an eyebrow as the car behind gets a little too close for comfort.

"_Daiyu, you listening?"_

Releasing her glare on the car behind her, she braces for the green light. "Sorry, I lost myself in thought for a moment."

Surprisingly the scarred gangster chuckles through the speaker of her hands-free speakerphone. _"That's not like you, Daiyu. You've been doing this more and more lately."_

Tapping the gas on queue, the car moves into another lane to leave that nuisance in the dust. "There has not been much work to be done. When will you find me another target?"

"_Daiyu, try to understand… With the Desades out of business, that leaves only the Triads and my organization. Even if you count those masks and their Illuminati, there aren't many rivals left. I don't like wasting your abilities but until we're in a position to expand again, we're kinda stuck."_

"Perhaps we are stuck because we have not been more aggressive. The Watchman helped plan the attack on Desade and toppled him in six weeks."

More serious now, it's obvious his assassin's restless tonight. _"He didn't face the Desades at full strength, you know that. The pressure we put on him over the past few years weakened them to the point where even North Jump trash could challenge him. The Watchman merely tipped the balance, that's all."_

Sour as a bag of limes, the Chinese woman warns her employer. "Proving that he knows how to employ aggression _and_ intelligence. When will you finally let me go after him?"

"_That's up to Void and… well, you know who."_

Bulletface's last reply is cut short in a crazy blast of air and noise. Thrown sideways towards her window, her luxury sedan is broadsided by a black van with all the grace of a demolition derby. Before the car comes to a stop, a piece of driver-side window embeds into her face, more are sprayed onto her kimono, others into her arm. When the violent collision subsides, the assassin struggles to open the door, both cursing and blessing that her seatbelt is still in place.

Staggering out of the smoking wreck of her forty-thousand dollar car, the bloodied Bulletface gangster looks across to the van with murderous intention in her face. Blood has been spilled, accident or not, and she _will_ have revenge.

Before she takes too many steps, two other vans arrive, this time cutting off her escape from the flanks and the front, leaving only her rear exposed. That opportunity won't last; the killer smartly heads into the darkness of a Jump City alley.

"They were _targeting_ me? Too coordinated to be coincidence."

In the blackened abyss of rain and shadows, the Chinese woman can be thankful for the fact her kimono is both white _and_ black, helping to hide in the darkness.

"She's gone down the alley! Move, move!"

Snapping her head back at the sound of male voices, the idea quickly appears in her mind. "Assassins coming after the assassin? Fools."

At the accident scene, a fourth black van arrives, this time unloading six heavily-armed men and one very irritable woman in red and black. Flexing her fingers into sharp stabbing weapons, Antoine Desade's only daughter cracks a vicious grin. "The rat scurried off into the alley? She's dumber than she looks."

"Ma'am, we have first and second squads in pursuit, third will sweep around the block to cut her off."

Patting her taller henchman on the shoulder, she has a slight jig in her step while marching towards the alley. "Think I'll take a walk myself, I haven't had a chance to exercise in weeks."

* * *

><p>"<em>A city block this size has a minimum of five stories, fifteen structures long by ten wide… Staying on the ground is death against that many soldiers, need to get on the rooftops."<em>

While kimonos and dress shoes might be appropriate for formal occasions in the East, in the West Coast of America it might just hamper you while you're trying to climb fire escapes.

"See her?"

"No, I don't see her anywhere!"

"Check behind the dumpsters… see if that hobo knows."

Grinning oh-so slightly as the prey walks blind beneath her fire escape; the raven-haired hitwoman licks her lips in anticipation. Like the tiger stalking the rabbit from above, it's only a matter of time before they decide to come up to _her_ level.

"What are you idiots DOING?!"

At the top of her fire escape, Daiyu stops at the sound of a familiar voice.

"Ma'am, the Black Jade seems to have disappeared, she's nowhere to be found!"

"She's not the goddamn Watchman you idiots! How did dad put up with all of you… FUCK!"

Finally the grin on her face can't be contained; the tiger will call to the rabbit this one time. "Hey there, little girl!" That grin turns into a smile as fifteen very upset killers look skyward. "I don't hide amongst trash cans, little child, I hunt with honor. If you would like a lesson in…"

The sub-machinegun and pistol fire ends Daiyu's little gloat, the order to fire quickly puts an end to their embarrassment. "She's on the roof! Get up there and put some fucking lead in that bitch's mouth!"

"_Two hairpin knives, one pistol with one extra clip, and darkness… Not a lot to work with, Daiyu!"_

Along the stone rooftops of Jump City, the trained killer of the Bulletface gang finds herself both heavily outgunned by her assailants and unable to call for help from her Bulletface or Triad associates. Still, it doesn't take firepower to kick the first man up the ladder square in the face. Dress shoes or not, a well-placed foot to the nose will cause anyone to lose their balance on the slippery steel. It'll only take a moment to move their bloodied comrade aside so the assassin bolts off across the rooftops, ready to spring the trap.

Kicking her way through a door down below, Rose Desade and her henchmen make their way up the apartment amongst screams from both the residents as well as the landlord. All it takes is the flash of a few firearms and a fist in the landlord's face to quell the terrified tenants. "Next floor there's a stairwell that'll take us to the roof. Waste no ammo on this one, I want her _dead_."

"First squad, I don't see her on this roof."

"Not over here either! Where's third squad?"

With yet another kick, Rose Desade barges onto the rain-drenched rooftop of the apartment building, fingers ready to slice through human flesh in a heartbeat. Problem is there's no Asian hearts to be found on this roof. "… You gotta be kidding me…"

Having run down to the end of the alleyway, Daiyu quietly makes her way down the fire escape, the men on the roof will be busy looking for hiding spots while she'll be making an exit.

The men below her are arranged to cover both the exit as well as the length of the alleyway, perfect targets for a few shots of 9mm.

"Hey! Fourth squad, head's up! She might be…"

Stopping at the edge of the rooftop, Rose and her entourage look down and notice the grim reality of their failure. If one body was bad enough, try seeing a squad of your own forces lying dead by the alley entrance. It's enough to make a red-eyed woman mad, so mad that her crew wisely make a run back toward their van.

"Goddamn BITCH! Ohhhhh, wait til I find you again, oooooo…"

* * *

><p>Already a few blocks away from Rose Desade and her hapless goons, Daiyu takes a moment to pause for a breath. Not that getting away from their squads was <em>easy<em>, just a matter of patience. If one cannot engage _fairly_, engage _honestly_. Not that Rose Desade was the smartest, or most clear-minded woman, to begin with but without "daddy", she's getting too sloppy.

"Still, those bastards wrecked my car…"

Bad enough Bulletface will complain about the car but surely Mao will give her the obligatory phone call. Stretching her back, the assassin shrugs at her shoulders to ease the tension. Mao, yup, he'll be calling once the news gets out that an attempt had been made on her life.

So deep in her thoughts, the Black Jade doesn't hear the sharp squeal of braking tires until the black Monte Carlo's already at a stop. Glancing over with a curious look, there doesn't appear to be any cars that have cut off the 80s vehicle. Judging from the solitary man exiting the passenger side, it doesn't appear that there's any other trouble either.

Then again, before she can turn away to start back down the street, a voice calls out to the hitwoman. "Hello, ma'am across the street!"

Her brown eyes turning into confusion at the sight of the large man's approach, Daiyu only blinks in reply.

Finally across the street and in front of her, the man in the black overcoat offers a faint grin on his face. "Not everyday you see a woman in a dress like that."

Caution dipping into sarcasm, she coolly retorts "It is no _dress_, it is a kimono."

It would seem the man's hiding something, even if his appearance does look familiar. "Sorry about that, didn't know the word for it." Mirth changing to concern of his own, the man offers "Still, must be soaking wet in that thing."

"What business is it of your's if the rain falls on me?"

In an odd move, the man takes off his coat leaving him only in a black shirt and jeans. "Well, it's rude to have a woman walk in the rain without a coat. Sorry, I don't have an umbrella." Before Daiyu can retort, the mysterious man tosses the coat into her arms.

Startled by the weight, she absently remarks on the piece "This is heavier than a mere raincoat."

Shrugging, he points down the street. "Keeps me warm in the rain. In the meantime, are you hungry? I know this place down the street that makes cheesesteaks like Gotham."

This day just keeps on getting stranger, doesn't it? First Daiyu's nearly killed by Rose Desade hit squads and now some stranger's giving her both a heavy raincoat and a meal? "I don't know what manner of game you are playing but I will not fall for it."

Hand coming down, his expression falls into a sour note. "Fine, if you don't want to accept hospitality, you can hand me back my overcoat." Shrugging in defeat, the man sighs to himself "I guess some people just can't be polite any more."

"I do not know you and certainly do not _trust_ you so do not attempt to _guilt_ me!"

Leaning in to close the gap between them, his towering height does not escape her even in this public street. "You're running from Rose Desade, Daiyu. I figured doing something _nice_ would cheer you up."

Eyes wide and startled, the Black Jade beckons an answer from this man. "How did you know I was running from…?"

"I was in the neighborhood with a friend, heard the gunshots." Grabbing at a pocket in his overcoat, the Watchman slides on his trademark sunglasses. "Besides, the Watchman's _always_ watching, Daiyu. Now, if you're done being stubborn, how about that cheesesteak?"

* * *

><p>"You're all about as helpful as a broken, bloody condom! How could we just let ONE woman get past us?!" The driver in the van tries his best to avoid the ranting and raving of Desade's daughter but the poor bastards in the back will have no such luck. "The job was <em>simple<em>! Follow her from Chinatown, ram her car, shoot the living shit out of her, then go back to North Jump and rebuild! How complicated can that be?!"

Some fool in the back actually has the nerve to suggest outloud. "Hey, at least the Watchman didn't show up, right?"

Instead of outright killing him on the spot, Rose merely grabs her head with both hands, growling in hate and loathing. "_At least the Watchman didn't show up_… Oh you're such a fucking idiot, you know that? If he'd shown up, everything would've been _fine_! That business he had with my dad, that was just… well, you know… sometimes my Watchman gets angry and he needs to…"

"Turn Marin Desade over to the DEA?"

Before the angry metahuman can reply, another gunner remarks. "Get the Hoods to knock over our last businesses in North Jump?"

Opening her mouth to scream, Rose is again interrupted by the driver remarking "Getting Antoine Desade dragged out of the cathedral by some mystery man with two faces?"

"ENOUGH!"

* * *

><p>"Do you know it's not polite to glare so much? You stare like that all your life; you'll turn into an old woman by the time you reach your 30s."<p>

Daiyu, the "Black Jade", assassin for hire for the Chinatown Triads and the Bulletface Gang… finds herself sitting in a faded booth of some two-bit steak shop in Jump City with none other than the Watchman for company. First she nearly gets killed by Rose Desade and now she's forced to endure a civil meal with him _for the second time_ since his return to the Bay Area.

"Seriously, that glare needs to go, you're attracting attention."

Ignoring the small hamburger before her, much to Gar's dismay, she curses at him in Chinese first. What follows next is purely in English. "Why can you not just be a _normal_ person like everyone else?! You break in to my home to ask for a favor, you repeatedly insult me, and now you force me, once more, to share a _meal_ with you?"

Happily digging into his "vegan-friendly" cheesesteak, there's a voice in his head that might protest the lack of authentic chip steak but some diets just aren't broken that easily. "You know, for a woman who just got a free hamburger, you're bitching a lot."

Grasping for one of her hairpins, she icily whispers to the vigilante. "_I_ will show you _bitching_ if you say one more word."

Unimpressed, Watchman merely looks to her with a look of disbelieving apathy. "Seriously? You're going to threaten me over _dinner_? Wow, I got better conversation out of Rose and she's on more drugs than I could count in a day."

Vein forming on her forehead, the criminal finally stands up. "Fine, child, be that way. If you have nothing worth saying, I will take my leave."

"Daiyu, sit back down and be _quiet_. Don't you know why I brought you in here?"

Looking down with disgust at the man before her, she questions him "Why?"

"Rose and her gang will be driving around all night looking for a woman in a kimono… Do you _really_ think they'll look in a steak joint for a Chinese woman with expensive tastes?"

He… has a point there, she'll give him that. "Stealth?"

"Common sense."

Sighing, more out of restlessness than irritation, she admits his point and sits back down. "Very well, I will stay. However, annoy me once more and…"

"You need a man, _big time_."

No use for just one hairpin, the second one comes out as well. "What was _that?!_"

"A man… heh… a man to give _information_ to, yup, that's it!"

"You are not funny, Watchman."

Now the vigilante gets to sigh in relief, he gets to keep his eyes for a few minutes longer. "I try. Seriously, how much progress have you made?"

"Progress?"

Wiping his lips with a napkin, Gar continues. "Yeah, _progress_. Remember we agreed you'd look into why Bryson and Mao are working in secret on some _project_ funded by Void?"

"And just how would you know of such a project?"

There's no hiding the look of his own restlessness and irritation, the memory of a black folder is all it takes. "Let's just say a whore flipped me a dossier with some heavy reading material."

Shaking her head at the riddle, she merely reaches down for her hamburger. "I do not eat this sort of food often, you better not have made this a bad meal or you will not be paid for the food."

"I'm hurt… You think I'd ask you to _pay_ for you food?"

Taking a bite, she waits until she swallows before answering. "That is correct. You have a reputation as a freeloader and as a homewrecker."

"_HOMEWRECKER_?"

Another bite of the beef patty, she nods once more after finishing. "My house was a mess after your last visit."

Folding his arms across his chest, he looks out towards the traffic on the city street. "I only wanted information; you wanted my eyes on a platter."

"Only because you are a rude child who does not show respect to women. It is rude to enter a woman's room while she is asleep."

Ticking his finger, Gar asks earnestly. "And at Bryson's warehouse?"

Another bite, another retort. "You were trespassing and attempted false flattery."

One more finger is ticked on his hand. "And outside my girlfriend's house?"

"You accused Baptist and I of murder. Murder, I will remind you, was _not_ of our doing."

Letting the point go, he has to settle with leaning back in the seat and glancing out the window.

"However, I must admit you have been rather kind to me as of late."

"You didn't kill my girlfriend; you just work for a man I'm on a collision course with."

Seeing the distant look in his eyes as he avoids her gaze, the Watchman seems much a like statue deep in thought rather than a human. "So until you attack Mr. Bryson, we have no legitimate issue between the two of us?"

Giving her a look of muted surprise, Gar nods in affirmative. "All I want from you is information on Void's project, I could care less about any differences between us."

"I might betray you and kill you on the curb."

With a grimace on his face, Gar reminds the Black Jade. "I'm not that easy to kill, remember?"

* * *

><p>AN2: There you are, a little one-shot Daiyu piece. Had the idea of doing a piece through someone else's eye in this story, someone who hasn't been featured (I've done 2 Dr. Light POV, multiple Raven POV, and a few Jake/Sinclair POVs).  
>I didn't want to go into heavy detail about the fallout of the Desades yet, I imagine they're still cleaning up the mess... judging from Rose's group, it didn't end well from the remaining Desades.<p>

Trivia:  
>- Arc title: "Descent" by Edge of Dawn<p>

Rhetorical:  
>- As cold and blunt as this is going to sound, bare with me. Throughout the world, countries who most Americans can't even spell get hit with disasters far more often (and often worse) than what we've been getting. However, what I honestly hope for is that people in our region of the country start to open their eyes to the reality that no one is safe from nature, no matter if you're New York or wherever. It's time to stop being so blind to disasters around the world and start being a bit more humble, no one's immune from nature.<p> 


	24. I Feel Fear for the Last Time

A/N: We're changing gears a little here, mainly because the ideas in my head don't clash too well unless they sync up with the arc after this. Again, seeing as this story's become so dense and so illustrated, I could go a million ways (Gar vs Bulletface, Gar vs Illuminati, Gar vs TJ White, etc) so I have to pick something that's dramatically relevant but also thematically true. In this case, Gar's trying to change himself a little bit after Ripper's insults and Desade exposing his anger issues.

**Redux 3: There Goes My Hero**

"I Feel Fear for the Last Time…"

Chapter One:

March 15, 2011:

"_Sometimes I hate being homeless. Sure you get all the fresh air you'd want, no property taxes, not even a phone number so telemarketers can't bother you at dinner time… It also means you get woken up in the weirdest ways possible. Imagine being prodded in the ribs by a garbage boy outside of a pizza shop? Being told to "move along" by a kid not even old enough to smoke just makes you feel all warm and fuzzy on the inside… that's sarcasm, of course._

_Why was I sleeping in some alley in Jump City instead of my "HQ" in the Haight-Ashbury? I get tired and sometimes I don't feel like flying so if I have to take a nap, I'll find wherever's quiet enough. Problem is when you don't sleep but every two, maybe three days, a quick "power nap" suddenly turns into eight hours and that pizza shop that was closed just happens to be open for some time._

_Can't sleep in North Jump either, not with the NJPD still prowling the streets for the Hoods or the Desades. One little operation and the city shit itself; not even a "thank you" for taking down the largest drug supplier in North Jump either. I certainly didn't get a thank you from Bone; all I got was a bill for stitches in his ass from a stray 9mm round. He pulled through for me; it'd be rude to leave him without something other than beer, so I gave up my monthly stipend from Waller to cover the expense._

_That's when the other problem hit: I morally owed other people money. Ms. Sinclair, T&P, Jake, all of them were out money from missing work or back-owed bills. Another two thousand dollars down the drain just to keep my friends happy… And that's not the best part! That little nest egg I'd been building since 2007, that went right out the window… It took ten grand just to pay off Johnny Rancid and his oddball biker gang… What started as a simple operation turned into fifteen thousand dollars of poverty, all because I'm such a "nice guy."_

* * *

><p>Late afternoon in Jump City feels so much better in March, the icy winter seemingly gone for the year, allowing the city to open up a bit more this time of day. Saint Patrick's Day decorations are in the storefronts, the holiday's only two days away and it looks like the city's ready for a celebration. For six individuals however, Downtown Jump City only looks like a plum ripe for the picking… and it's time to harvest.<p>

Adonis, full suit of polished armor ever-present, steps out onto the busy avenue, halting traffic and forcing others to veer off into multiple wrecks. Looking to his sides, the muscle-bound villain calls out to his comrades. "You know the plan, made sure they get the _message_."

As a unit, five other criminals fan out and start making life miserable for any in their path. While Adonis keeps traffic at a standstill, lifting cars as though lifting paper towels, the others break into stores at random or chase down pedestrians.

"Lightning, Scorpio, heads up!"

One villain, a gaudy-looking male in yellow with a lightning bolt on his head snaps his hands together, summoning electricity. The other, "Scorpio", licks her lips as a large tail-like scorpion stinger juts out of her back. "Bring it!"

Adonis complies, tossing the sedan with the slightest of effort. First the man named Lightning fires a stream of sparks, catching the vehicle on fire. Undaunted, Scorpio spins herself around, slamming the car away with her tail. The burning wreck finds itself embedding into a bakery shop, igniting on impact. High-fiving each other, they both congratulate each other before starting off for more mayhem.

"Black Ghost, Renegade, Hammer!"

Another car is hefted by the red-trimmed juggernaut; another car is thrown only this time towards the other side. An army-themed hulk of a man in camo and gunbelts unloads with a Vietnam-era machine gun, riddling the car full of bullets. Next, another man, this one in a black Kevlar jumpsuit leaps forward, his coffin-black helmet hiding emotion as he uses a katana to cut through the roof of the vehicle. Finally the last man of the trio, a blond-hairred, blue-eyed Viking-styled brute hefts an oversized sledgehammer. "Hammer time!" What remains of the car following the hammer shot is a vicious wreck of twisted metal and smoking fluids, the villain obviously proud of his work.

"Adonis is pleased. Now, everybody fan out, the Titan dweebs won't be waiting much longer."

* * *

><p>The T-Car feels rather empty with just Cyborg, Herald, and Red Star in the car. There's no need for extra passengers as Nightwing speeds ahead and the newest recruit to the Titans is busy flying overhead. "Nightwing, Adonis and his cronies haven't moved. JCPD got the place surrounded but they're waiting for us to make a move."<p>

"_Sounds like they want our attention. Let's not keep them waiting."_

Herald looks to the Titans' second-in-command, a look of concern on his face. "Do you think this is another Illuminati attack?"

"Dr. Light would not send such an obvious show of force for no reason." Red Star advises; anticipation in his Russian heart. "He wants to test us."

"Star's probably right, Adonis is just the bait." Biting at his lip a little bit, the cybernetic man wonders aloud. "Problem is I doubt it's just for _us_."

"Who else would he be trying to lure in?"

"All this waiting is making Adonis bored. These pecs can't flex if there ain't Titans to press."

* * *

><p>Black Ghost, as silent as ever, drops down next to Adonis. The double-edged katana still rests in his hand but sarcasm in his voice blunts the mood. "Maybe you should've sent a louder message; you could've brought one of the buildings down."<p>

Pumping a fist into his metal hand, the cocky villain looks at the assassin below him. "Black Ghost, you got style. Hold the fort, Adonis gonna bring down the house." Marching over to what appears to be seven-stories of office space; the hulk flexes his fingers a bit before grabbing into the side of the building. "Oh yeah, bring on the adrenalin. No gain if you ain't got no game."

"That's _pain_, tin man!"

If Adonis could've seen Nightwing approach, he would've been alert enough to dodge the bird-a-rang which smacked him in the face. Alas the giant staggers back, cursing at the pain in his non-armored face. "Asshole! You do NOT hurt this awesome face!"

"Oh I would, head's up Adonis!" Swooping down from the sky, Donna Troy, Jump City's newest heroine "Wonder Girl", rears back with a gauntlet-wrapped arm and punches Adonis clear across the sidewalk and into the open street.

Rampage steps into the street, his weapon loaded and ready to go. "It's the Titans! Alright troopers, let them have it!"

* * *

><p>Far away from Jump City, away from the small conflict erupting in violence, a man stands on the bridge of the Justice League's Watchtower. Mr. Terrific brings up the fight on one of the many screens, observing the battle as though watching human chess. He isn't alone here as the woman formerly known as Hawkgirl also follows the fight, noting the styles of the combatants.<p>

"I don't recognize any of these fighters outside of the Titans." Shayera points out, observing as Hammer slams away at Cyborg in a fruitless effort.

"And it looks like they've finally deployed Wonder Girl. It's a shame they had to use her so soon but with Starfire gone, they didn't have much of a choice."

Stepping onto the bridge, a very different looking Raven appears as though normal for the Watchtower. Gone is the leotard, this time a more modest approach is taken. While retaining her trademark cloak, chakra, and belt, she sports something of a more uniform, more _subdued_ appearance. With a pair of black slacks and blue sweater, she could almost pass for _casual_ Passiveness giving way to curiousity, she looks towards the screen now and asks. "Is that Adonis? When did he get out of jail?"

"Raven, I don't have to call for you now. Adonis and several supervillains are attacking Downtown Jump City, we don't know why. The Titans are engaging them now but so far it's a deadlock."

Floating over next to Shayera and Mr. Terrific, Raven eyes the fight with serious intent. Cyborg lands one hell of a good shot on Hammer only to be swatted away by Scorpio. And while Scorpio gets punched away by Wonder Girl, a well-timed shot from Lightning stuns her to the ground.

"Think you're ready to return?"

Shaken from her thoughts, Raven looks to the woman she's come to respect over the past two months. "You mean you want me to help them?"

"Just because you'll be observing the Illuminati for us doesn't mean you have to abandon being who you are. You're still a hero, League or otherwise."

Turning his gaze towards the two women, the tactician of the League offers some encouragement to bolster the empath's mood. "It might just turn the tide seeing a founding member arrive on the scene. The Illuminati might be tough but most of their recruits seem to be new to the game."

Considering the situation for a moment, it only takes the sight of seeing Red Star knocked down by Adonis to push her into helping. "Just don't beam me too close to the fight, I don't want them to ask any other questions… it's bad enough I don't _look_ the part."

* * *

><p>"Eat lead, buggle-boy!" The stream of high-caliber gunfire would be impressive had Herald not summoned a portal to absorb the bullets. "Hey now, that's just cheating!"<p>

Nightwing duels against Black Ghost, staff vs. katana in a dizzying dance of mad combat. While the Titan leader may have an edge in terms of a larger weapon, with every flip away from Nightwing forces the hero to dodge as Black Ghost exchanges the katana for a pair of Desert Eagles. Swords he can engage but .50 caliber weapons are just a bitch to block.

"Here comes the hammmmmmer!" While the Norse-man might be good at bringing the pain, failing to hit a woman who can float in mid-air just has the man of brawn clueless and ticked off. "You beserkers, never using your heads!" Donna Troy leaps forward, grabbing the man in a hug, follows the hold into a suplex which drives the man's head into the concrete. "Amazons don't need to hide behind mere weapons to defeat you."

Red Star just happens to be in the wrong place at the wrong time, battling both Lightning and Scorpio has put him at a disadvantage. Every attempt at using his energy blasts to attack Scorpio is deflected by Lightning's counter-charge, forcing the Russian to battle the two on his own.

It's not like Cyborg can assist, he's too busy trying to keep Adonis from crushing his chest. As powerful as the Titan is, Adonis is a wrecking machine that doesn't tire that easily. "Is that all you got, dipshit? Adonis will crush you like… uh… aw fuck it..."

* * *

><p>Teleported just behind the storefronts facing the battle, Raven rolls up her hood to hide her face. It's time to put her training in the League to work. Eyes beginning to glow white, she whispers her three words of meditation to herself as the air around her starts to crackle with dark energies.<p>

* * *

><p>Closing the gap between them, Nightwing propels himself over a car, twisting in mid-air to avoid the bullets, and finally brings the staff down on top of Black Ghost's helmet. The blow stuns the assassin for a moment, long enough for Nightwing to grab him by the Kevlar and threaten the criminal before throwing a punch. "For the record, your moves <em>suck<em>."

As Red Star is pushed down to his knee by a stream of lightning, the superhero curses his inability to employ his full power. Doing so would certainly end these two before him… at the cost of dozens of buildings and lives being vaporized.

"What's the matter, _Ruskie_, you don't look so good."

Snapping her tail all about, Scorpio tells the electric criminal beside her. "Looks like I'll have to stick him for the win."

Levitating up out of the ground behind them, Raven coldly warns the two criminals in a voice befitting a demon. "You humans just never learn."

"When the hell did she…?"

"Azarath Metrion Zinthos!"

* * *

><p>At the sight of Raven's return, the people of Jump City rejoice in happiness. While the Titans have been fighting the Illuminati for the past few months, Raven had hardly been seen at all. Granted this Raven looks different than what they've seen; the fact is she's taking it to the bad guys at that's all that counts.<p>

For one man, it's the return of someone he's missed a whole bunch since Christmas. At once the Watchman takes to the air, determined to get this reunion going in full swing.

* * *

><p>Finally throwing Cyborg aside, Adonis steps through the fight as he spots Raven fighting Scorpio. "Adonis hasn't seen this babe in some time." Rolling his pecs, he taunts the goth before him. "It's rude to keep a man waiting, <em>bitch<em>." Eyes still glowing white, Raven summons up several wrecked cars as projectiles. Each one is thrown in anger, none of them are lucky to reach their target. Like target practice, the mammoth merely punches the cars in tandem in mid-air. "HAH! Adonis isn't a lightweight, babe, I can do this ALL NIGHT."

Backing up Raven is one pissed-off Wonder Girl, the criminal's chauvinistic attitude grating on her nerves. Flying in, Raven's warning to halt is ignored. For her troubles, she gets to taste the concrete wall of a building as Adonis backhands her away.

Red Star and Herald attempt to flank him on his sides, only for the man to gloat in his obvious _footwork_. Stomping on the ground, the small shockwave is enough to snap both of them off their feet and away from the brute.

Cyborg and Nightwing attempt a regroup, moving next to Raven with weapons drawn. It's Cyborg who makes the first comment. "Glad to see you haven't forgotten about us."

"Been busy. I'm back now, that's all that counts."

Glaring as Adonis beckons them forward, Nightwing asks with some bitterness towards the criminal. "Any chance you could use your powers to rip his armor off? He seems a lot stronger than before."

"I could crush him if I wasn't careful… and Titans don't kill the bad guys."

Offering a grin each, the three founding members of the Titans prepare themselves as Adonis comes roaring in, feet thundering in the concrete. "Here comes Adonnnnnnnissssssss!"

* * *

><p>Watching the unfolding battle on his television screen, Dr. Light is flanked by Captain Boomerang, Firefly, Atomic Skull, and his ever-present pyromaniac assistant. As the battle unfolds, the men either hiss in pain from a blow or laugh as something unexpected happens. To the four men and one woman, the Downtown fight might as well be a sports event; the only thing missing is the five betting amongst themselves as to the winner.<p>

"I didn't expect the goth to come back over a fight this small."

Atomic Skull's comment is furthered by Firefly, watching Lightning being swatted by Adonis by accident. "Who needs a goth when _roid rage_ there's doing that to his own team."

"I say that bloody bruiser needs a new strategy if he plans to take down the kids. I guess that's why brawn like him is best used for cannon fodder." Coughing a bit for emphasis, Atomic Skull's subtlety is reminder enough for Captain Boomerang. "_Present company_ excluded, of course."

"Gentlemen, focus please. They're doing they're job to the best of their ability." Stepping away from the television to stretch, the not-so-young Doctor Light needs to clear his joints just a bit. "Besides, they've already pulled one of those Titans out of hiding… If they can bring out the other _pain in the ass_, then I'd say this plan's going _brilliantly_."

* * *

><p>The crowd of onlookers outside the police barricade might be treated to one hell of a metahuman brawl but for one member of the crowd, the gathering is merely an obstacle to an opportunity.<p>

"Excuse me, out of the way, certified nutcase with a gun!" Shoving through the crowd, the large-and-in-charge Watchman makes his way up to the barricade, daring the cops to stop him.

Ripping off his holoring, the Watchman's lack of money and abundance of boredom seems to melt away as he rushes into the fight. Using his small crowbar as an armguard again, he nearly laughs with excitement. His body assumes the form of a cheetah, hauling ass towards the first victim of the day: Rampage. Leaping forward, Gar changes back into a human, the forward momentum carries him into forearming Rampage across the face.

Standing over the unconscious criminal, Gar looks to the brawl and howls out. "Hello Illuminati, I'm your Cherry Bomb!"

What had been a three-on-one fight between Nightwing, Raven, Cyborg, and Adonis quickly turns into a collection of confused stares as Watchman launches further into the fray. Cyborg particularly laughs as Gar latches onto Scorpio's tail, eager not to touch the stinger, but still being flung around like a ragdolls at the woman attempts to swat him off.

"Watchman?! What's that limp-dick doing here?" Never mind that, the Titans just gathered four of their original five and that makes one very delicate situation. Adonis might be strong but Watchman isn't very sane, especially as he dares Scorpio to "tap out" while twisting the tail of Scorpio.

It only takes a few minutes for Wonder Girl, Red Star, and Herald to round up Rampage, Hammer, and Lightning while Watchman continues his half-assed attempt at "submitting" Scorpio. In fact his effort has allowed the Titans to gang up on Adonis while Black Ghost seems to have made an exit from the fight: Live to fight another day, especially with the fight turning into 7-6.

"Get off my tail you no good, rude little…"

Thrown off the tail, Gar rolls hard on the ground, enough for Scorpio to attempt a charge. Of course this is only a setup, Gar turns to meet his foe with his shotgun ready and aimed. Scorpio's eyes widen intensely as the barrel appears to be aimed at her but rather the shell fires into her tail, not her body. There is a howl of pain, one that sounds oddly animalistic, but one that's cut short as Gar moves forward and uses the crowbar to knock her out. This battle might have been short but Adonis is gaining a second wind.

"Weaklings, all of you. The bitch needs magic, the tin man needs batteries and even these chumps under Light couldn't handle a little muscle to the face." Seven on six is facing Adonis from all sides but it's Watchman that has his attention. "And you! You're not even fighting like an animal anymore; you just use guns and tools. You're not a man, you're just a whimp."

Aiming the gun forward, Gar taunts Adonis sharply. "Open that suit and come find out."

Posing with his arms in the air, Adonis boasts just that much more. "Nah, I don't think so. If you won't face Adonis as a man, maybe you can fight Adonis as an animal."

"What are you talking about?" Donna Troy demands, this close form ripping that suit apart, his life be damned.

"GET BACK!" Gar's shout is just in the nick of time as Adonis changes into the were-beast form from years back. Whereas that beast came unarmed, this one happens to be wearing the Adonis armor but without limiting it's speed.

* * *

><p>"<em>Yes it's an incredible scene here in Downtown Jump City… The remaining members of the original Teen Titans are working together along with present members Wonder Girl, Herald, and Red Star against what appears to be another Illuminati attack… Wait… Ladies and gentlemen, the criminal Adonis has just transformed his body… My God, he looks like some sort of animal but it's horrible to look at… Look out!"<em>

Smashing against the Jump City News truck, Watchman looks like he's seen better days already. Not even in this fight ten minutes and already his back feels like an old man's.

"Watchman, are you alright?"

Seeing the camera aimed at him as the reporter attempts to help him up, Watchman looks into the screen and tells the viewers "Remember everyone, help control the pet population; have your pets spayed or neutered…"

Red Star uses his energies to deflect the were-beast away for a moment, long enough for Wonder Girl to land a few punches across its face. The blows are short lived, even if the creature's stunned for it simply launches itself upward and uppercuts the Amazon back. Herald moves in behind the creature, blowing his trumpet for a portal to open. Snarling with a grin, Adonis turns itself around, runs and front-flips into a spin reminiscent of Blanka of Street Fighter fame. Suffice to say, it doesn't take much to knock the human down, the blow's enough to level him into the street.

"Watchman, you have any ideas how to take him down? He's too strong in that form."

Trying to pop his back, Watchman suggests the obvious to Nightwing. "It's not a crime to put down an animal with rabies."

Glaring through the mask, Nightwing doesn't appreciate the humor. "That's not what I meant, Watchman! You've been in that form before, what are its weaknesses?"

"What's a predator do?"

"Predator's hunt." Cyborg remarks, preparing his cannons as Adonis comes charging their way.

Running forward, there's a special surprise waiting for Adonis inside his coat. "Give them a rabbit to chase and they get distracted." Stopping to distract Adonis, Gar calls out. "Come on, BIG BOY!"

Looking to his teammates, Nightwing calls out. "Raven, Star, get ready to open fire. Herald, pull Watchman out just before Adonis gets to him."

Wonder Girl sneers as the beast charges Garfield, unaware. "And then I'll punch him into the atmosphere."

Ripping out a flash bang from his coat, the pin is pulled and the weapon is thrown with gusto. Stopping a moment in surprise, Adonis's super-sharp vision is blinded by the quick burst of light, stalling him enough for Nightwing to call out the attack. Gar doesn't need to be pulled out by Herald but Raven and Red Star don't hesitate one moment.

"Wonder Girl, Cyborg, NOW!"

With the beast contained, two very pissed Titans combine their muscle and pummel the creature skyward. Unfortunate for Adonis that he'd land on the ground as a human before he'd land as a were-beast.

Unsure if the creature will return to it's feet, the crowd waits a few moments before hundreds of excited voices call out in happiness. This battle is over and it appears the Titans are just as powerful as ever. No need to hold back the celebration, this calls for a cheer even from the JCPD as they move into the area to start arresting the criminals.

* * *

><p>Gathering up in the center, Nightwing tells his team, especially Gar in this case. "Good work, <em>everyone<em>. I'm glad to see everyone's back, if only for a short time again." Patting Gar on the shoulder, Nightwing turns to talk to the JCPD, leadership always came with the perks of dealing with the law.

"Breakin' up drug cartels ain't your thing anymore?" Cyborg offers, also patting his friend on the shoulder.

Offering a pained, smug look, Garfield answers back with a grin of his own "Oh it's still my thing but even the Watchman needs a hobby."

Walking past Red Star, Herald, and Wonder Girl, the vagrant steps up to the gothic woman with something of a smile on his face. "Glad to see you're back."

Pulling down the hood, she allows her eyes to return to normal. "I never left."

Nodding, moreso out of relief than acknowledgement, he asks her a serious question. "Are you mad?"

"About that war you led against the Desades?"

"Yes, the war... The way I went off the deep end, the way I left like that without even..."

Cutting him off, feeling better just to speak with him again, she assures him with her own tiny grin. "We all have a job to do, right? No sense getting upset over it."

As Gar moves in for an embrace on his friend, his eyes suddenly go wide with pain and shock. While the group had scattered amongst the street to clear the scene, the pair of metahumans had left one beautifully open shot for a sniper on the rooftops. Falling into Raven's arms, the empath looks even paler at the sight of a needle in Gar's back.

In his eyes, the last thing he can see is one very scared expression on her face… and in his ears, the faint sound of his name before blackness overcomes him.

* * *

><p>AN2: CLIFFHANGER! Aw who am I kidding, Anonymous Void will probably guess how this is all gonna play out, YDK will be asking when the Justice League's getting involved, and someone will bitch "Gar's not angry enough" in this chapter.  
>I love writing the Illuminati leadership these days, it's awesome. Seeing Boomerang, Firefly, Light, and Atomic Skull makes me want to laugh because to me these nuts are just people in a world full of fucked up people, only they get to mock it a bit.<br>What happened to Gar? You'll see.

Trivia:  
>- Arc title comes from Doctor Manhattan (Watchman) on his final second before the accident that made him.<br>- I know Rampage is already a DC character (but if I recall that one died in JLU for siding with Grodd)  
>- Hammer, Scorpio, Lightning all are OCs<br>- Black Ghost is a character inspired by reader SheardMCMXCIV albeit toned down.  
>- Wonder Girl wasn't used in Teen Titans, wanted to bring in a female for the Titans.<br>- "Have your pets spayed or neutered" from Bob Barker of _The Price is Right_.  
>- "Hello Illuminati, I'm your Cherry Bomb" is from the song "Cherry Bomb" from The Runaways, also a reference to Gar's North Jump arc.<p>

Rhetorical:  
>Sorry I don't update anymore... Did you know I have about six, possibly eight more arcs in store before this story ends? I know how it ends but getting there takes time.<p> 


	25. Chapter 25

**Redux 3: There Goes My Hero**

"I Feel Fear for the Last Time…"

Chapter Two:

"_Oh Azar, I'm so sorry… I didn't see you, this is so embarrassing…"_

_Groggy, almost bloodshot from fatigue, green eyes awaken from the darkness, looking up into the bright, crystal blue sky. There doesn't seem to be anything wrong with his body outside of the feeling he'd been sleeping for quite some time. "Where am I?"_

_Drifting his eyes over to his side, the sight of a woman standing next to him catches his attention. Sitting up, he dusts off his overcoat, curious as to whom this mysterious woman is. "I'm sorry, I'm still getting used to this." Revealing two open palms, she continues her odd stream of thought. "I just got the hang of this whole thing and I'm not too sure…?"_

_A hand on his head, the headache begins to set in although it's cause is beyond him. "Hey, relax, you didn't kill me, right? Although it feels like you took a good shot." Standing up, he finally gets a chance to meet this woman eye-to-eye, although given the six or so inches over her, that's more figurative than literal._

_The curly-haired woman with the odd blue hue offers a shy look, pale white face glowing red with embarrassment. "Well I was trying out this new… ability I've been learning and I didn't know you were… napping… behind the bushes…"_

_Letting go of his head, Gar points out the jewel on her forehead as well as the blue robe around her shoulders. "Jewels and robes, defying fashion are we?"_

"_It helps center myself when I'm practicing my craft. You know it's the middle of June, right? People don't wear trench coats, especially when they're sleeping in the park."_

_Eyeing up his brown duster coat, Gar replies back with a bit of mock-hurt in his voice. "There's nothing wrong with my coat, it makes me look cool when the wind takes it."_

_There doesn't seem to be any anger coming from Gar, none that she could sense at least, the smile on her lips comes more out of relief than happiness, at the moment. Then again, this guy's kinda quirky. "I'm sure. So, are you feeling better now?"_

"_Yeah, just took a little air to clear the brain." Seeing the smile on her face, Gar asks coyly "I don't suppose my mystery woman has a name, does she?"_

_Offering one hand with a bracelet, the robed woman offers the taller man. "Rachel Christina Roth. And you are?"_

_Although his hand seems much larger than hers, for him it feels like the perfect fit. "Garfield Mark Logan, pleasure to meet you Ms. Roth."_

* * *

><p>March 15, 2011<p>

The three-quarter moon seems so large when it's rising over the skyline of Jump City, Luna's pale light drowning out even the Jewel of the West's maze of skyscrapers and streetlights. For the gathered assembly of young men and women in the Titans Tower, the situation isn't quite so beautiful to their dismay.

With Nightwing, Cyborg, and Raven tending over him, Garfield "Watchman" Logan lies motionless on the bed, machines beeping and reacting to his lack of stimuli. While technically "alive", there doesn't appear to be any sign of consciousness from the vigilante, none since the needle struck his spine hours prior.

"Well, the good news is Gar's still alive, he doesn't appear to be in danger." Reading aloud the results from his scanning array, the good bit of news should help with the situation… until he fires off the bad news. "Bad news is he's not responding to medication and he's pretty much comatose. Whatever that needle injected him with did one of hell of a job knocking him out."

Nightwing, always the astute leader of the team, asks his friend for any sign of a suspect. "Any idea who might've fired the needle? Fingerprints, inscriptions?"

"No prints and the needle's just like any other one you'd find in the city." Rubbing at his chin, Cyborg looks to the green man lying helplessly on the bed. "If they wanted to kill him, they could have; the needle proves that. Question is _why didn't the shooter use a bullet?_"

"We'll be asking the shooter that, and _then some_. In the meantime, we need to find a way to bring Garfield out of his coma." Cool eyes behind the mask turn suddenly to the woman sitting next to Gar; this will be both delicate but necessary of him to ask. "Raven, you used your psychic abilities to enter my mind once, could you do that with Garfield?"

"I don't know if I can reach him in this state. When a person's awake, it becomes easier to travel through their consciousness."

"We have to at least try, for his sake."

Nodding in agreement, the empath of Azar grounds herself, closes her eyes, and begins to chant three whispers of words all-too familiar to the men around her.

* * *

><p>Somewhere in the Bay Area, the assassin known as the Black Ghost moves through the secret HQ of the Illuminati. With several criminals cheering him, and several others criticizing his leaving the battle early, the cool-as-ice hitman marches towards the front as though surrounded by nothingness.<p>

"Ah, here he is, the man in black that always leaves his _mark_." Stepping forward to meet the young assassin, Dr. Light grins proudly at the youth's accomplishment. "I take it your little diversion paid off?"

Removing his helmet, the dark-skinned killer before him also grins in accomplishment, albeit it less evil than Light's. "Adonis's animal distraction was all that I needed. I doubt the Titans suspect someone who appeared to cowardly _flee_ from a fight would hang around a wait for an opportunity."

"Hah!" Eyes still wide and full of glee, Dr. Light looks behind to the other leaders in his group. "Hear that, men? Unlike that crazy _zealot_, this man has a _bright_ future."

"Yeah yeah, puns an' all doc, we know." Boomerang steps up now, flanked by Firefly and Atomic Skull. "Listen kid, we got ourselves a little proposition for ya, if you're willin' to pay an old man an ear?"

There's nothing but business now, no need for self-gloating. "What do you have in mind?"

"The four of us have a bet heating up." Firefly's remark seems emphasized by his ever-present flamethrower.

"And they say _I_ use puns…"

Ignoring the master of illumination, Boomerang finally lays out the deal. "How'd you like to be involved in a three-way gamble? Firefly, Atomic Skull, and myself all put wagers down that says our choice can beat the other to the task. Whoever wins gets half the profit, the other goes to our choice in the draw."

Removing the double-bladed sword from the sheath, Black Ghost merely stretches it across his shoulders, lazily enjoying the proposition and what it stands for. "Very well. Who do I represent, who is the target, and _how much is on the line_?"

Pushing the pyromaniac and the man from down under aside, Atomic Skull warns the sword-weilding hitman. "Listen kid, don't be too cocky. Just because this is a bet between men doesn't mean it'll be _easy._"

"Oh come off it you big hothead, we're tryin' to have some fun with the young lad."

Dr. Light interjects, moving his arm around the man's shoulder to guide them away. "Atomic Skull wagers the Baptist can do it; he says the man's tougher than he looks. Firefly's putting money down on Daiyu, the Black Jade of the Bulletface Gang. You can guess who Boomerang's picked, right?"

"Yes sir. Now, as for the target and the price?"

Smiling proudly, though nowhere near happily, the proud leader's point is as clear as a whistle. "There's three million dollars on this bet, win and you get half… that is _if_ you can kill the Watchman."

* * *

><p>"It's no good; I can't reach his mind from here." Sitting back in her chair, breathing slightly faster from the rush of adrenalin, it seems her attempt has stalled or failed altogether. "There's something blocking me."<p>

"I thought you connected directly to the person's soul when you entered their mind?"

Shaking her head, her breathing is still tense but easing now. "There's still limits to how much you can do; it's _their_ soul. When I tried to make contact, something kept me from reaching his consciousness."

"Whatever was in that needle must be deliberately keeping him unconscious instead of just being a side-effect." Offering a reassuring look of his own, Cyborg has doubts of his own but right now his friend needs assurance. "The blood results will be done soon, we'll know for sure then. In the meantime, it's getting late."

"We'll know what we're up against once the results in." Letting out a yawn of his own, it seems Cyborg's comment on the time finally must've reached the team leader. "I'm turning in for now, let me know if anything happens during the night."

"If it's alright, I'd like to try it one more time. I'm used to being up late anyway."

Exchanging glances between the two men, it doesn't seem to be any trouble letting her stay. It's the team leader that makes the call for the pair. "Stay as long as you need to. No one moved into your room while you're gone although all that's there is abed. When you get tired, feel free."

Her own tired smile appears more out of gratitude to an old friend than that of someone she used to work _under_. "Thanks. Good night.'

* * *

><p>"<em>Are you INSANE?! How can you possibly agree to WORK with those goddamn masks?!"<em>

Working out of his loft in Downtown, Arthur Void scowls at the idea of some _gun runner_ bossing him about. Then again, business is business and if people want to keep making money, they'll need to put their attitudes away. "I worked with masochistic drug barons, I'm working with a psychopathic gun runner, I also happen to sponsor a nationalist Chinese Triad who won't reveal his true name, working with Dr. Light on this matter is _hardly_ impossible to fathom."

"_Consider what you're agreeing to, Void! If you agree to that freak's offer, you'll be putting Daiyu is harms way. Do you really want Mao's Triad to turn on you if she happens to lose her head?"_

Still looking sour as he types away on his iPhone, the game of Sudoku occupies his attention even as his subordinate decides to go off on a rant. "She's a big girl with sharp knives, she can handle herself. Besides, there's half a million dollars _free_ from the Illuminati. That might be _small change_ for someone like me but consider it free future imports."

"_Void, I'm telling you, they will betray her the moment she moves in on Watchman. I'm not giving up my best killer over some twisted sense of competition."_

Looking away from the game for the moment, Void looks to the phone on his desk. The gun runner will be pissed for this but the CEO doesn't stop from calling towards the speakerphone. "Your best _killer_ or a woman you've come to _love_?"

"_What did you say you son of a…"_

"You heard me, _Bryson_, I said a woman you've come to _love_. Don't make threats, _scarface_, or Mao just might find out _why_ you've been keeping Daiyu by your side these past few years."

* * *

><p>Another attempt at entering his mind, another failed attempt in the books. This is becoming annoying to the goth, her attempts at cracking his mind seem to be blunted by something and she isn't given the dignity of knowing what's stopping her. Checking the coast is clear, she phases out of the room, moving to the roof for somewhere microphones and cameras cannot follow.<p>

Tapping the earpiece, she calls for assistance to the problem. "Raven to Watchtower."

It's not the baritone of Mr. Terrific that answers, in fact it's much deeper. _"Watchtower here, go ahead Raven."_

"You're not Mr. Terrific."

"_Mr. Terrific is off duty until the morning. What is your status?"_

"The Watchman was injected with some unknown substance which has left him unconscious. He's in a comatose state but appears to be stable."

"_Can you send us the data on his condition?"_

Wrapping the cloak about her body; the March air isn't too warm no matter how close spring approaches. "We'll have a complete read by morning. For the record, the Titans don't know I'm working with the League so I'll need to copy the data covertly."

"_Understood, transmit when you can and we'll analyze the data. Watchtower out."_

Sighing in the cool air, it only takes a matter of concentration to return her back to the medic bay. Still no motion, only the idle sound of heart monitors and other instruments.

"Haven't seen this picture before, have I Gar?" The dry joke directed to Gar goes unheard by the vigilante. "Although last time your throat was split in two… you were almost dead…"

Returning to her seat next to the bed, she takes in a few breathes to calm herself some more. No matter how many times they've been through this, seeing a close friend in the medic bay from fight-related injuries never gets easier. With no one around though, it gets easier to say the things you want to say.

"You've been on your own for four years now, it doesn't seem like a long time but it has. You left so suddenly, we didn't even have time to react to it all… Starfire cried at first, she didn't know why you were leaving to fight criminals when we could've done it _together_…"

No reply, just beeping, just breathing…

"Since you've left, three Titans died. Starfire, Argent… Jinx… Nightwing's still getting over Star; he tries to hide it but you can tell it still weighs on his mind… I miss her too."

As much as she'd like to pull up the hood, there's no point. It's not like he's going to get up and crack a joke about her getting emotional at a time like this. "I even miss Jinx, although probably not as much as you miss her. If you heard the things she said about you, that ego of your's would blow up like a blimp… She was starting to really like you, like that girl Kristine you wrote about… And then you lost her too…"

Wiping something out of her eye, the will inside keeps her from letting loose but that might not hold for much longer. "And now you're really back, you're not going away again. No more asylum, no more prisons… You're really here, just like how it used to be. You brought down the man who drugged you, that much you've accomplished and you haven't even been back four months. You've already started fighting the _Illuminati_; we couldn't even bring Dr. Light to justice for killing Star and Argent… You'll beat him too, won't you? You'll beat him and the gun runners, the CEOs… you'll bring Ripper in too…"

Finally, that will to resist gives way to a dam that bursts with fear, not of the present, but of the unknown. "Gar, what have they done to you? Why did they do all of this? They took you from us, they killed those who loved you, they threw you in the asylum… and now they'll take your life… and yet you just won't give up… you won't stop… even when you died, you _still_ came back, you wouldn't stop then, what could stop you _now_?"

* * *

><p>"<em>Look, I'm fine; it's just a boo-boo, that's all."<em>

_Checking out his head, it's obvious that cut isn't a "boo-boo" as he'd put it. "I thought you said you were feeling better?"_

"_I was, I just didn't know I was bleeding, that's all."_

_Scowling, the robed woman checks the gash on the back of Gar's head, looking for the best place to apply her "abilities." "You must be one thick-headed nut to not notice you're bleeding."_

_Wincing as she puts her hand to his head, he mutters aloud. "And you must be one crazy lady, shooting black magic all over the place."_

"_Complain again and this black magic won't seal up the cut."_

_Begrudgingly, the vagrant abandons his argument, content to feel the pulses of energy spreading across his scalp. The hair on the back of his neck bristles more out of odd sensations rather than tension, a fact his back attributes in the positive to peaceful firings of endorphins. "Wow, that feels funny."_

"_It wouldn't feel good if it wasn't meant for healing."_

"_True." Once the work is done, she moves from behind him, checking out his expression at her work. "How do you feel? I've never tried that on an open wound before."_

"_Feel great, saves me a trip to the doctor's. You're awesome, you know that? You can heal things, use magic, and really rock the cape-look…"_

_Again flush of red courses through her face, forcing her to turn around slightly to hide the blush. "You're teasing me, aren't you?"_

"_No, no, not at all. Appreciate the healing work; normally people just walk over me in the park instead of helping me."_

"_Which reminds me…" Rachel's wanted to ask this but said wound disrupted that attempt. "… why were you sleeping in the bushes?"_

_Looking back into the park, Gar wonders that himself. "Not sure, I don't normally sleep in public like that. Matter of fact, I don't know how I got here in the first place…"_

_Grin returning to her face, an idea sprouts up inside her head. "Well, since you just woke up, are you hungry? It's too late for breakfast but how about lunch? I still owe you for waking you up like… well, you know."_

_There's an attempt by Gar to be polite but there's a curious sound in his stomach protesting his decision. Offering a grin of embarrassment himself, he accepts her deal. "Guess I was hungry after all."_

* * *

><p>AN2: I'm sure you're wondering just what the hell's going on... The facts will be revealed coming soon.  
>Still, a three-way plot coming up: A bet between the Illuminati leaders which assassin's better, Gar in a coma, and Gar... well, not sure where (or what) he's at this moment.<p>

Trivia:  
>- Lot of Redux 1, 2, 2 12 references, hence why Raven's "speech" is somewhat OOC for her._  
><em>

Rhetorical:  
>Raven's speech there wasn't planned, it just happened. Gar to me is the epitome of what drives a hero (justice, courage, selflessness) who doesn't embrace it's code (no-killing, honesty, integrity). I think, since she's come to know him as The Watchman instead of just Beast Boy, she's finally gotten started to open up to him as a man rather than a boy. Problem is the plot keeps getting in the way. It's obvious she loves him but Gar has a mission... and so does she.<p> 


	26. Chapter 26

A/N: Update, so soon? Oh this arc has my attention. There's aspects of this arc that were mentioned in Draft One (the bounty), channeling Smokin' Aces a bit with (well, you'll see), and continuing Gar's mindfuck. By the way, if anyone's figured out what's making Gar imagine all of this, feel free to review. Glad to see I'm getting new reviewers, PLEASE keep them coming.**  
><strong>

**Redux 3: There Goes My Hero**

"I Feel Fear for the Last Time…"

Chapter Three:

_The waves below the Golden Gate blow rather sharply in the cool, November air; cooler still if you happen to be sitting atop of the famous bridge. Such inconveniences will have to do for the two young lovers, both huddled up on top of the bridge, an orange sunset in the distance for them to gaze upon._

"_You know it's been over two years since we've met?"_

_Leaning into the man in the black coat, Rachel sighs rather contently against his chest. "Doesn't seem like that long, does it?"_

_With his left arm wrapped around her slender body, it almost feels as though he's on top of the world, figuratively and literally. "Nope, seems like it's gone by in the blink of an eye. I wouldn't have it any other way."_

_The smile across her pale face widens a few inches more. "You're usually not this cliché, Garfield. Still, that's sweet of you to say."_

_Looking out to the Pacific Ocean, one can see the outline of the famed Titans' Tower. Somewhere in that giant T-structure are the city's protectors, the Teen Titans. For the two lovers, it's merely one sight amongst many along the coast. "I've been thinking lately, about the two of us."_

"_Hmm?"_

"_Ever since I met you, my life's gotten better and better. I don't live in abandoned buildings, I don't fight crime, I don't even sleep in public parks any more."_

"_I found an emerald in the rough. What's your point?"_

"_Well, there's something I need to know, about us."_

_Looking up at the green eyes of Garfield Logan, Rachel Roth merely asks. "Are you having second thoughts… about us?"_

_It seems a wave of nervousness, almost fear begins to spread across his iron face. "Yeah, about us…"_

_Leaning back into him, the content feeling she'd been experiencing seems to be making its exit along with the setting sun. "I see. I don't know why you'd be worried about us; I thought you said things were going great?"_

"_We are… but… there's something I need to know, something very important."_

_Closing her eyes, it's time to brace for the worst… "Well, what do you want to ask?"_

_Fingering something in his pocket, the tone of the tall man changes as he shifts his right hand in front of them for Rachel to see. Popping the box, Gar asks with a smile on his face. "Will you marry me?"_

_Oh that content feeling comes back, this time bringing joy and possibly surprise along for the ride. "WHAT?! You jerk!" Smacking him in the chest, she still beams with something bordering on happiness but a bit more subdued. "Are you serious, Gar?"_

"_I wouldn't ask if I didn't mean it with all my heart. Rachel, will you be my wife?"_

* * *

><p>March 18, 2011<p>

Serving as the official head of law enforcement in Jump City is a building affectionately known to the Bay Area as "the Hall of Justice." Any Justice League-related nicknames aside, the hub of the JCPD presently holds members of the Illuminati, specifically the ones Adonis led in the Downtown attack. This is precisely why Raven has made her way down here and it's not admire the complex.

"_Raven, we've already questioned Adonis and his crew. Why are you going back?"_

Tapping at the earpiece, Raven doesn't appear to be in the best of moods. "I want to see if he changes his story after we discuss what's going on with Gar."

Nightwing's voice keeps speaking into her ear as she marches through the busy hallways, uncaring if they se her talking to herself. _"Have you gotten some new information?"_

"I've got a feeling; the substance they injected Gar with is similar to something I've seen before."

After several checks by security, the door leading to the interrogation room opens with a buzzing noise. Adonis might be big and strong in his armor but right now he's nothing more than an insect before the magnifying glass.

"Hey, I already told your leader everything I know. Don't you have someone _else_ to go bother?"

Eyes looking to the security camera, all it takes is a mental command for the device to go black with static. "You've got some explaining to do, Adonis, and I'm NOT in the mood for your shit!"

"I told you, I don't _know_ anything about it! All we were supposed to do was distract the Titans; they never said what we were there _for_."

Another mental command, this time pulling the chair out from the under the fearful criminal, four eyes would work better but she's in control here. "Listen, _human_, the only thing keeping me from ripping out your tiny _brain_ is the knowledge that I gave you the bliss of _death_." Stepping up closer and closer, she marvels at how fast he backs into a corner. "Right now my friend is lying on a hospital bed, unconscious, and the one person who knows _why_ he's in such a state is trying to _cover_ for his partners." Eyes glowing white now, sparking with barely-checked aggression, the half-breed demon fills the room up with black energy. "Now, you're going to tell me how to reverse his condition and then where to find the antidote… or I'm going to paint the walls of this room _red_ with your _blood_. Start talking!"

* * *

><p>If it weren't for the fact he had permission to be here, Cyborg's sure Gar would beat him for stepping into his hideout in the Haight-Ashbury. Then again, if he didn't want him there, he shouldn't have woken him up from a sleep last month and laid down the guilt trip into coming here. Besides, at least the woman he was waiting for has decided to finally show up.<p>

"Helloooo, tin man…" Jumping out of the computer, Livewire looks just as perky and sharp as ever. "So, is it Cyborg or Stone this time?"

"Cyborg, Stone's just a disguise."

"Aw, I kinda liked that look better. You looked scarier, not like your transformers gimmick."

Sneering at the thought of being called a toy robot, Cy gets down to the business at hand. "You heard about Garfield?"

"Nope, I've been on the road the past few weeks. Big Blue gets lonely when I'm not in Metropolis."

"Gar's been poisoned… no, that's not it, it's something worse than that."

Cheeriness giving way to concern, the spark plug supercriminal looks a bit worried. "Whoa whoa, you mean someone did something to Gar-baby? What happened?"

Connecting his scanner to the computer via cable, Cyborg brings up the blood scan report from the other day. "He's been injected with some sort of plant matter or synthetic substance. It's blocked his nervous system from reacting to outside stimulus."

"Wha?"

Shaking his head, this woman seems to get right under her skin… no wonder Gar's so fond of her. "Whatever the Illuminati pumped into his body just put him into a coma. He won't wake up if we drop him out of the bed, Raven can't even enter his mind because of this substance. What I'm saying is the Illuminati just fucked Gar up and we don't know how to counter it."

Snapping her fingers, it finally clicks inside her electric-based brain. "Oh, I see. Gar-baby's gonna be out for awhile and it's up to ol' Sparky to find a way to bring him out. I could go all Pikachu and zap his neural nodes into comin' back to life?"

"That won't work, this mystery substance reacts to external stimuli and it's keeping him in a coma _consciously_."

"Fine, why don't I sneak in to see that mean ol' Dr. Light and shock some sense back into him? He'll give up the cure or I'll fry the last few cells he got left in his brain?"

Sighing, it's time to ask for the favor he'd been dreading. "That's not what I called you for. Livewire, the Illuminati's put out a hit on Gar's life. There's a three million dollar bounty on Gar, the first one who gets to him wins a cut."

"_Gets to him?_"

"Rumor has it Daiyu, John the Baptist, and Dr. Light's new hitman Black Ghost are coming to claim the reward. We need your help if we're going to stop them."

Jumping back just a little bit, the Metropolis criminal holds a hand to her chest, shocked (no pun) by the offer. "Whoa whoa, slow down there megatron. I don't mind workin' with Gar-baby once in awhile but helpin' those goody two-shoe Titans just ain't somethin' this gal's up for doing. The money ain't for nothin' and this chick don't work for free."

* * *

><p>"Now, I know there's been a few… hiccups… in our plans over the past month…"<p>

"Daiyu escaped and killed one of our squads?"

"Marin's still in DEA custody?"

"The Boss is still missing?"

"SHUT UP!"

All eyes turn to the bloodshot eyes of Rose Desade, her temper flaring out of control, from cocaine or genuine anger is to be seen. "Yes, there's been some hiccups, but that doesn't take away the fact we're _still_ here. Daiyu didn't kill us, that was her mistake. We're going to make her pay for that."

"How? She's got Bulletface backing her and we couldn't kill her with 30 guys, how we supposed to kill her with 20?"

Grinning rather darkly, the last free Desade informs her foolish henchmen. "There's a bounty out on the Watchman. There's four million dollars, seven-hundred and fifty thousand goes to the one who brings in his head."

"The Watchman? Are you kidding?"

"No, I'm not. The person who brings Dr. Light the head of the Watchman gets half a million dollars. We could use that money to rebuild our forces and start taking back the city. We could _rule_ this place once again, just like my father did all these years!"

Unsure, it takes one of the crew's remarks all but a second to bring down the optimism just a little bit. "Maybe then we could base our business out of a building instead of these vans?"

* * *

><p>By the evening of the 18th, it seems word's traveled pretty fast. The Bay Area's buzzing that there would be a bounty on the city's most notorious vagrant. Not that it's too unexpected, he <em>did<em> lead a major raid on the Desade drug cartel, but only that they'd pay so _cheaply_. By the time word reaches Jake Dewalt and Rebecca Sinclair in the Johnston Apartments, that number seems to falsely been raised.

T&P sits in the midst of the two private investigators, uncaring that these two used to work with police on catching "known criminals" in the area. "The word going around is that Dr. Light's put out a five million dollar bounty on Gar's head. I don't think he took Gar's fight with Adonis very well."

"Five million's not that much for all the shit he's gotten into. Still, it's not right to just do _nothing_."

"Jake, five million's going to attract attention. Daiyu, Baptist, they're local… but who _else_ might be coming?"

Lighting up a cigarette, T&P's thoughts also linger on the prospect of more assassins coming to collect the bounty. "Imagine if they all stormed Gar at once? You think they'd drag him to Light in cuff's or would he'd send all their heads back with a bow on top?"

Also sparking a tube of tobacco, Jake wonders as well about the future. "Knowing him he'd send a Hallmark card with the heads to piss him off. What's the plan then since we all seem so _worried_ about the homewrecker?"

"I haven't been able to get through to Watchman or Livewire. Doesn't he hang around with that goth girl from the Titans?"

Jake and Rebecca exchange an odd glance at the "goth" remark. Seeing T&P and Raven together, especially with their ties to Gar, should be something to be avoided. "They're… an odd couple, TP, very odd."

"You'd have to be to hang out with that troublemaker. Give her a call, see if we can't find out where Gar is, I think we owe him _that_ much."

* * *

><p>"I have no intention of being killed by either the Baptist or this young punk Black Ghost. I will bide my time, allow the Titans the opportunity to capture them when they foolishly make their approach." On the desk of one Bulletface Bryson, Daiyu has arranged a series of pictures as well as maps for his curiosity. "They may believe I will be enticed by money but I do not see the wisdom of walking into a trap."<p>

"You have our backing as well as Mao's, they'd be fools to try and ambush you."

"Do not forget, Bryson, the Baptist has been shown to switch sides for money. Perhaps that zealot will think himself better off to kill the Black Ghost to increase his odds of winning."

Scanning the pictures before him, it would seem that the Baptist has made himself quite a reputation. There's a picture of him at the high roller table at the MGM Grand in Vegas, another picture has him posing outside of the Sacramento City Hall with a deck of cards in one hand and a bible in the other. "He's a gambler, risking it all on blackjack and decapitation. At least we _know_ what his M.O. but this Black Ghost; he's a mystery to me. Mao's never heard of him and up until Tuesday no one knew he existed."

Stabbing a hairpin into the JCN news photo of the Black Ghost, Daiyu declares to herself as well as her employer "He hides behind guns and trickery, shooting from afar while hiding in darkness. A true warrior faces their opponent and brings them down with their own skills."

"Ok, ok Daiyu, I know the drill." Rubbing at the scarred half of his face, the gun runner ponders her role in the job. "You still haven't said how you plan to cash in the bounty. Once you dispose of Baptist and Black Ghost, the task of bringing in the Watchman should be made easier, right?"

"The Watchman has been drugged or poisoned by the Black Ghost, his guard will be down. Once our competition is defeated, the Bulletface Gang and the Triads will have no difficulty securing him."

It's not the plan that catches the eye of Bulletface, it's the tone in which she describes the Watchman's predicament. Something about the way she lingered on his name, just as she would Mao's, sounds so very alien to him. "You think catching him will be _easy_? You seem to have a lot of confidence for someone who only faced him once?"

Using her own hairpin to drive a stake in the Watchman's picture, she reasons with herself and Bulletface, for her own honor. "He will not escape me again. That bounty will be _ours_."

* * *

><p>"<em>Let me see if I understand correctly… Our Watchman's drugged; he's unable to leave the Tower and all of this happens just before Dr. Light decides to put a bounty on his head? Sounds like my protégé can't escape trouble even when he's asleep."<em>

Raven isn't used to speaking with Question when there's another Titan standing next to her. How Gar ever got Cyborg and Question together is beyond her, especially considering they weren't the only ones Gar worked with in the past four months. "There's another issue as well, we don't have an antidote to wake him up." While she'd like to tell Q she sent the blood data two days ago, telling him in front of Cyborg will blow her cover.

"_And the agent won't respond to normal medication and methods. I take it you've already begun shaking down members of the Illuminati for a cure?"_

"Already under way. Nightwing's been on the hunt for two days, Raven's got a lead on a possible supplier from Adonis, and I've asked Livewire to do some undercover work."

"Wait, did you say _Livewire_?" Raven's question interrupts the report from the two heroes. "When did she get involved with this?"

This isn't the time for the debate over what Gar did to win the Desades war, for now a half-answer will have to do. "When I asked her to do a favor for Gar. She's pretty go with going deep in enemy territory, we can trust her."

"_Livewire's half-crazy but dependable, Raven. She helped Gar when it came time to rescue his friends when Desade held them captive. In the meantime, we have work to do."_

"Think you can use the Justice League computers to identify the agent in his bloodstream?"

Assuring the two Jump City heroes, the masked man of the League offers with a nod to both of his associates. _"If the League's computer finds anything, I'll relay it to both of you. I'm sure you'll both be taking different routes on this and the more eyes we have, the better."_

Cracking a grin, one seconded by Raven with the pun forthcoming, Cyborg asks the man in blue. "I thought you didn't have eyes under that mask of your's?"

"_And they Garfield's the sarcastic one. I'll be in touch."_

Stretching, the metal man needs some food if this evening's gonna drag on any longer. "Well, that's about everybody. How about on your end?"

"I got a call from Gar's friends from North Jump, the two detectives said they'll be willing to help."

Eyebrow quirked, the next question from Cyborg slips past his brain, perhaps out of instinct with Gar. "Just the two of them? I thought T&P would help."

"… what do you mean _T&P_?"

* * *

><p>"<em>So did you ask me to come up here just to propose?"<em>

_The dark blue sapphire on a band of silver looks pretty damn good on her petite finger. "Yup. I wanted to do something special, bending down on one knee's corny… and I'll have nothing but the best for the future Ms. Logan."_

_Smirking, she observes the ring one more time before settling back into her spot against his chest. The sun might be gone but, from a different angle, the moon will soon rise."I must be the luckiest girl in the world."_

* * *

><p><em><em>A/N2: I feel really bad for Gar, all of this is happening and he doesn't have a clue. This chapter is the last "set-up" chapter in the arc, action is coming. So we have Rose, Daiyu, Baptist, Black Ghost (so far) trying to cash the bounty while Livewire, T&P, Jake, Sinclair, the Titans, Question, and Raven are trying to stop it. We got ourselves a little trouble brewing here... and who's to say Waller isn't aware her agent's unable to work?

Trivia:  
>- "Money for Nothing" by Dire Straits referenced by Livewire<br>- Yes, I had Livewire call Cyborg "Megatron"

Rhetorical:  
>Poor Gar, gettin' married in his dream while people are trying to kill him.<p> 


	27. Chapter 27

A/N: I hope everyone had a good holiday, I've gotten some heavy-duty sleep in the past week so I'm really feelin' good. Gar's dream just seems to get more and more depressing (oh c'mon, you know me, does any of my stories end on a happy note?) We get to see a little one-on-one battle here as well as some more hints. There's a cliffhanger at the end.

**Redux 3: There Goes My Hero**

"I Feel Fear for the Last Time…"

Chapter Four:

"_You ready for this, green bean?"_

_Pulling at the collar of his black, white, and purple tuxedo, the "green bean" in question doesn't appear to look so cool, calm, and collected. "Don't ask me that, Vic, you're not helping."_

_It doesn't help that the man next to him happening to be grinning oh-so slightly. "You were the one who proposed, Garfield. Just another twenty minutes and it'll all be over."_

_Sweating at the prospect before him, the man with the emerald eyes withholds a glare out of respect for the truth. "Easy for you to say, Q! You've been married for a few years now."_

"_Facing criminals and conspiracy isn't as scary as going home to the wife. You'll get over it."_

_Unhappy at wearing a tuxedo himself, North Jump's resident P.I. also toys with the collar's tightness. "Of course you'd have to pick purple and black. What's wrong with a perfectly good Earth color like brown?"_

_Rolling his eyes, feet tapping on their own, patience dictates that the P.I.'s complaints will have to wait. "Oh yeah, that'd look real nice… Nothing says "husband material" like a hundred dollar brown suit." Finally turning to the priest, his silver cross shining like a beacon of hope, Gar feels the need to remind him of the final precaution. "If I chicken out of this, make sure you throw me to the floor. She'll kill me if I run now."_

_Startling the four men is the sudden start to the church's organ, the brass pipes echo in the stone hall like heralds from God himself. Offering his friend one last pat on the shoulder for good luck, Vic looks towards the back with a smile._

_City officials, dignitaries, members of the Doom Patrol, Titans all over the world, and quite a few less-than-law-abiding citizens turn their eyes to the wedding procession. A little Titan in training with two blonde pigtails tosses the flowers followed by two uncomfortable boys carrying rings._

"_New recruits?" Gar's question is quickly shut down by an elbow to his ribs, courtesy of Vic and Jake._

_When the bridesmaids make their way, it's time for Gar's three tormentors to squirm in their shoes: While all three happen to be married, two of their wives happen to not be in the precession. A bit of revenge is in order, especially given Gar's increasing nervousness. As it happens, Jake's lucky enough to have his wife, Mrs. Rebecca Dewalt, standing in front of him, seeing Question and Starfire followed by Jinx and Cyborg brings a small laugh to Gar's soul. _

_That laugh is quickly removed by the sound of an all-too familiar tune on the organ. Along with the sound of hundreds of heads turning to the back, it appears the bride is ready to make her entrance._

"_Not too late, Gar-baby."_

_Whispering out of the corner of his mouth, Gar's sweatdrops look like waterfalls as reality fully dawns. "Shut up, Jinx, you're not helping!"_

_So strange to see their friend Dick "Robin" Grayson walking alongside his bride. Then again, with no other family members left to hand her off, their long-time friend will have to do._

* * *

><p>March 20, 2011<p>

Getting off the busy streets of Jump City might be the best way to approach this situation. While the blue cloak doesn't exactly help throw off suspicion, entering the apartment building below her will raise more eyebrows. With a trio of words and a minimum of effort, the woman in blue descends through several layers to reach the fifth of ten floors. With only a dim-lit bulb to illuminate the hallway, any would-be witnesses will be hard-pressed to identify the trespasser.

Phasing through one of the doors, the first sign of trouble is the _smell_. Using her magic to bring light to the darkness, the origin of the scent seems to be coming from the limp body on the floor, a hole through the forehead cakes with old blood. "Well, looks like Adonis was right… not that it'll help you."

The urge to call the police to report the killing is equally balanced with the curiosity regarding the laptop on the table. Assuming the killer hasn't already wiped the hard drive clean, there _should_ be some intel worth gathering.

"Well, seems you've been a busy little hacker, haven't you? You're also a very _stupid_ hacker; you didn't even clear your history files." Tapping at her chin, the empathy searches through the log for something unseen in the streams of data. Nightwing might've cracked it in half the time, Cyborg another half of a half, but that won't stop her from finding…

"STAR Labs? Why were you researching _STAR Labs_?"

And while the half-demon types away, a different scent starts to fill the room. Catching her nose with it/'s bluntness, the smell forces her eyes wide in revelation. "Gasoline...?"

From the ordinary, outside space beyond the apartment, the Spring day doesn't appear to be going wrong, all seems peaceful in the land of Jump City. Of course when the fifth floor of a local apartment building suddenly goes up in _flames_, it has a tendency of ruining your day. Shards of glass, concrete, and mortar bomb the street like a rain of destruction and death.

Fortunately the early smell of gasoline had given Raven the time needed to escape the room but not the concussive effects of the blast. Exercising her magics, she's lucky her body hadn't twisted in half as her body made contact with the blue Ford sedan below.

"Raven to Nightwing, come in."

"_What's wrong Raven, you sound different?"_

Looking up at the wall of fire and smoke, the urge to fly back up and rescue the trapped citizens starts to take hold. "The contact Adonis gave up was a trap. The person who lived there was already dead and someone blew up the fifth floor of the building. They nearly got me in the blast."

"_Hold on, we'll be there as soon as we can."_

"I'm going back in to help with the rescue, I'll be…'

Startling her with the sound of metal on metal, her eyes grow wider at the sight of a poker card embedded on a parking meter just behind her. As the woman in blue turns, a man in a white trench coat smiles at the opportunity granted him. "Blessed be our Lord for granting me this chance to vanquish one more demon in His name. And while I need resort to using agents to flush out said vile demon, it will be with His will and weapons that I shall defeat the monster. Amen…"

* * *

><p>A long way away from the brewing trouble between Baptist and Raven, Cyborg and Herald approach the dingy-looking façade of a "hardware store" in North Jump. Bullshit on that, the rat Cyborg threatened with dismemberment gave up the location of this off-the-books poker joint a mere three hours ago. While Herald offers to use his horn to make a covert approach, the veteran Titan decides to throw discretion right out the window.<p>

Scattering in fear like cockroaches under the kitchen light, Cyborg's charge into the building almost sounds like a Vice raid. Both arms charged into cannons, the metal Titan calls out for all to hear. "Everyone, you got FIVE seconds to tell me where I can find the Baptist. Start talking before I get _really_ mad."

Two men approach, fully automatic AK-47s at the ready, taunting the two heroes where they stand. "You think you Titans can come in here and put the screws to us?! Don't you know who we work for?! You and your friend are _dead_!"

Looking to the Titan besides him, Cyborg nods in silent agreement. "Your five seconds just ran out." Using the sonic cannons to destroy both guns in their hands, Cyborg calls for a portal to be opened by the trumpeter. "You don't start talkin' about the Baptist real soon, my friend here will send you to a place Hell would be proud of. Where is he?!"

"You're too late." Cyborg's eyes snap to the voice beside him, a scared man in a black suit cowers beneath the metal giant. "He was already here… He said he planned to slay the demon that hides in blue…"

* * *

><p>The sight of the assassin in white, a silver cross embedded with diamonds, and one dangerous deck of cards is all it takes to rile up the young woman. "Baptist, you hypocrite! There's still <em>people<em> up there!"

Flipping those cards between his hands ever so absentmindedly, his eyes cannot be seen in the reflection of glasses on his nose. "_People_? If you wish to insinuate that _I_ brought fire to those _people_, it would be wise to consult a psychiatrist. I did not _set that building on fire_, although I _may_ have been connected to the person who _had_."

"I don't have _time_ to deal with you! Azarath Metrion Zinthos!"

The area she'd landed in suddenly begins cracking with the power of demonic energy. Normally this wouldn't be wise, starting a fight when the JCFD's about to arrive with firetrucks, but he needs to be dealt with quickly.

And all the bastard does is _smile_. "_Finally_, we can begin." Out of his coat pocket comes a plastic bottle, filled with water. "Please, whenever you're ready, by all means…"

Summoning up her strength, she rears back, finally turning to throw a hand of dark energy at him. All it'll take is one twist of the psychic hand to snap his neck. Taking a long gulp of the water, the Baptist suddenly _spits_ the water back at the psychic hand. More surprising is the fact the hand _dissipates_ when making contact with the water.

That's a stunner, even for her. "What the hell did you _do_?"

Patting his stomach, the ever-humble Baptist simply gloats, proud with himself. "All natural spring water, tastes great! Well, it's not _natural _spring water; I asked the Archbishop of Jump City to send a couple gallons of blessed _holy water_ for my work. Isn't it _amazing_ what fellow believers will do for the pious?"

There's a look on Raven's face, it's not quite angry yet there's still only two eyes on her face… "Hiding behind holy water won't save you, Baptist. I don't need to kill you _right now_, not when my friends know what's happening."

"Oh, are they now?"

"That's right. It'll be hard to claim the bounty on Watchman when we drag you into prison for good."

Returning to his boisterous smile, the hitman-for-hire declares "While that's true, demon, _you_ forget one little detail. It's true the bounty on the Watchman is indeed high; you've failed to realize how much Doctor Light will pay _extra_ for _your_ life. Granted it's only _half_ of the Watchman but, in this economy, I can't be picky."

* * *

><p>"<em>Reporting from Downtown Jump City where it appears a fight has broken out between Titans' member Raven and the assassin known as The Baptist. We haven't received confirmation if this fight triggered the apartment building explosion but authorities are advising locals to avoid this section of the city until order has been restored."<em>

Braking sharply around a turn, the black Monte Carlo screeches while it's powerful engine kicks onto another gear."I can see what Gar sees in her; she causes just as much trouble as he does."

Looking out of the window, Rebecca can see smoke in the distance. "Don't get in too close, Jake, the Baptist hasn't forgotten what you did to him."

Poking her head between the seats, T&P practically growls at the P.I. "This hunk of shit go any faster?"

Gnashing his teeth, it's hard enough avoiding traffic when it's quiet; add two women and it's a migraine. "Wanna jump out? That'll help with the RPMs."

Smacking him in the head, the part-time criminal looks out the window with Rebecca. "Smartass! Just don't get us killed."

* * *

><p>Normally evasion and defensive actions aren't Raven's primary choices in a fight but the battle had to be dragged away from the fire so the JCFD could move in. Still, having poker cards laced with blessed holy water thrown at you forces the move from car to car, side to side.<p>

"Not bad for a demon, floating all over the place like that makes you look like one of those pagan faeries." Snapping his fingers upward, a second deck rockets out, swirling into the growing vortex of sharp, sacred poker cards. "Then again, little faerie, can you fly about all day?"

"Nightwing, where are you?"

"_Few more minutes, we're almost there. Is the fire out?"_

One of the Baptist's cards explodes next to an SUV's fuel tank, reducing the vehicle to a fiery ball of smoke and heat. "The BAPTIST is trying to kill me, Nightwing, I don't CARE about the fire!"

The Baptist would unleash more cards to the fight were it not for the stinging pain of a needle poking into his shoulder blade. Despite the thick material of the trench coat and the clothes underneath, the projectile from T&P's gun still finds a way into his back. "You know it's not polite interfering in a battle between Heaven and Hell?"

Twirling her gun around her finger, she stops with a small ego-stroke of a pose. "Says the killer in white. Watchman's right, you _are_ a hypocrite."

This distraction does give Raven the chance to summon up a pair of a motorbikes, objects that quickly fly in the direction of Baptist in an aura of dark magic. One bike is deflected with a blessed card but his aim fails on the second one. Even as he rolls out of the way, his hand reaches to his back to pull out the needle. "Two on one, certainly not fair _or_ polite."

"Deal with it." Casting a look across the street, T&P calls out for the psychic. "Think you could use that magic of yours?"

"He's using poker cards blessed with holy water, it's affecting my power." Sighing, the tattoo artist finds that fact more depressing than expected. "Draw his fire for a second, I have a plan."

Popping out the needle, he stretches his back while ignoring the pain. "It's _definitely_ not polite small-talking during a fight." Turning about to meet T&P, Baptist sneers with disdain. "Tattoo and Pierce? A woman who falsely defiles the flesh of God made in His image. I hadn't expected to end your life so soon but there's no time like the present."

If the look of reserved hatred was an odd look on the Baptist, the sight of surprise is even odder. Jumping down from the power lines is the form of a woman in black and blue. Sparking with electricity, the recent antiheroine Liveiwre stands between T&P and the Baptist. "You _really_ gotta work on your puns, Baptist. Don't you know a girl just ain't into ya if she don't feel that _spark_?"

The sight of the two antiheroes, both of whom happen to work _with_ Gar, brings another wave of headaches into her already troubled mind. "Gar, you have some very strange friends…"

Standing tall despite the threat, Baptist releases a fourth deck of cards to deal with this new turn of events. "The more the merrier, I have all day. A demon, a heathen, and a Judas metahuman, my day's getting fun in a hurry."

Enough's enough, he's outnumbered _and_ the pair of Nightwing and Wonder Girl is just around the corner. "You can't win, Baptist. Give up unless you want to see what a real _demon_ looks like."

It's out of pity for the situation that Baptist sighs, although not out of defeat. "Kids these days, never looking at the _grand scheme_. Ask yourselves, _why_ would I waste time with a public battle when I could claim a million dollar bounty?"

Narrowing her white eyes, the goth can sense where this is going although hopefully her mind's off. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"I agreed to kill Raven for the half million… in exchange for splitting the difference with the Black Ghost once he cuts off the Watchman's head."

* * *

><p><em>As the priest begins the ceremony, Gar can't help but sneak peeks at his bride-to-be. It's so strange to see her in anything other than black or blue; then again, some things are worth waiting for. Blushing a little under the veil, she gestures with her head to pay attention to the sermon and not to her.<em>

"_Do you, Garfield Logan, __will you have this woman to be your wedded wife, to love her, comfort her, honor and keep her, and forsaking all others, keep you only unto her, for so long as you both shall live?"_

_There's no resisting a smile at that, it's taken twenty five-odd years to hear that phrase. "I do."_

"_And , Rachel Roth, will you have this man to be your wedded husband, to love him, comfort him, honor and keep him, and forsaking all others, keep you only unto him, so long as you both shall live?"_

_If she could smile any wider, she'd almost look like the Joker. "I do."_

"_Now, if you would present the rings… And thus repeat after me."_

_Gar takes the silver band with the raven-engraving, sliding the ring onto her slender finger. "With this ring, I thee wed."_

_Rachel holds the silver band with the wolf-engraving, sliding it onto his tight finger. "With this ring, I thee wed."_

"_And if there are no objections as to why these two shall not be wed?"_

_In an act that brings a collective laugh from the audience, Gar calls out to the assembly. "Don't you dare!"_

_Chuckling a little to himself, the priest concludes the ceremony. "In as much Rachel and Garfield have consented together in wedlock and have witnessed the same before this company, and pledged their vows to each other, by the authority vested in me by the State of California, I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may now kiss the bride."_

* * *

><p><em><em>A/N2: Why didn't Baptist kill anyone? Look up the date, it's a Sunday. So something was stolen from STAR Labs, Black Ghost's about to attack the Tower when there's only one person there to guard Watchman, and apparently holy water works on demon energy (c'mon, I had to balance it out _somehow_.)

Trivia:  
>- The ring-bearers and flower girl were the three kids when Raven babysitted in Season 5, I don't remember their names.<br>- I'm surprised Gar didn't notice Starfire and Jinx at the wedding... you know, being dead and all.

Rhetorical:  
>- Gar really does surround himself with fucked up people. A tattoo artist, an electric metahuman, two private investigators, the Titans... and that's just his <em>friends<em>.


	28. Chapter 28

A/N: And with this chapter, I surpass 100,000 words (again.) This chapter is something of a mind fuck because there's a few elements going down that'll have reprocusions down the line. Still, enjoy this piece for what it is, because I wanted to close out the little 2-part fight (Baptist/Black Ghost section) with a rape of the brain. **  
><strong>

**Redux 3: There Goes My Hero**

"I Feel Fear for the Last Time…"

Chapter Five:

"_Gar, I know you're worried and all but pacing ain't gonna make this go any faster. Sit down before you wear out the rug. Look at ya man, you're already leaving tracks."_

_Waving off his friend Victor Stone, Gar continues his nervous pace, turning back and forth every ten feet or so. "It's easy for you to say that; your wife isn't having a baby, is she?"_

"_It's not the 1700s, Gar, she'll be fine. Stop worrying so much."_

_Another wave of the hand, it seems Gar's in his own, personal world. "I know it's not the 1700s… but she's not a normal woman. She's got special abilities, she's not as big as a normal woman, she's…'_

"_She's gonna kick your ass if she sees how much you're worrying over something this simple."  
>"Pushing out a baby through the holiest of holies…"<br>Hands up now in his own wave, Vic doesn't need to hear this. "Great, there's a picture I didn't need."_

_Growling out of frustration of the moment, Gar thrusts his hands into the air, willing the day to be over. "It hasn't even been a year since the wedding and I'm about to become a father! Me, the guy who slept in abandoned buildings and alleyways, a guy who helped lock up Doctor Light and put the Desades cartel out of business, me! I'm not just some solo vigilante anymore, I'm gonna be a FATHER!"_

"_Bein' the baby daddy does that. Props for getting' to parenthood so fast, I thought it'd be at least a year or two."  
>Gar seems to be in his own world as the tirade continues. "Oh you have no idea!" Rubbing at his head might help with the headache but not the tension in his chest. "I don't even know HOW to be a dad! I mean, what if it's a girl? I'll have to spend my whole life making sure she stays off the pole! If it's a boy, he'll be a bigger prankster than I ever was! Oh jeez, how did this happen?!"<em>

_Grinning at his friend, the older man in the seat offers some advice. "It happens when you get a woman knocked up on your wedding night. Guess it's too late for the birds and the bees talk?"_

"_Smartass."_

_Hands in defense, it seems the green bean's more strung out than he'd hoped. "I didn't think you'd be uptight over this. Go down the hall and get yourself a coffee or something."_

"_But my luck she'll be done as soon as I go and then…"_

"_Get your green butt down there before I punt my shoe into your spine! MOVE!"_

* * *

><p>The lone Titan in the Tower, the superpowered Red Star observes an incoming stream of information regarding something very bad Downtown. "Of all the places for a fire to break out." Flicking on a switch on the console, it's time to alert the team. "Cyborg, Herald, there looks to be an explosion Downtown. It appears to be near the building Raven was going to."<p>

"_Whoa, back up, what's going on?" _

Navigating the news reports coming in through the Tower computer, Red Star isolates the area on the map. "An explosion, the building is on fire. Raven was to be there to investigate a tip from Adonis."

"_We're on our way, keep us updated."_

"Will do, Cyborg." Turning off the link, he changes the line over to Nightwing. "Nightwing, are you there?"

"_There's been an explosion Downtown, we're heading there now."_

Quirking an eyebrow, the Siberian ponders the obvious. "You are well-informed, as always."

'_Raven called a few moments ago. Wonder Girl and I will assist with the blaze."_

"It is good to hear she was not harmed. Can you inform Cyborg that she is well?"

"_Will do. Be on your guard, Red Star, the Illuminati may use this to sneak one of their assassins onto the island."_

Sneering at the thought, the Russian strongman would love to get his hand on those that would try. "Hiding behind a civilian apartment bombing, these criminals have no honor."

"_No, they don't. Any update on Garfield?"_

Tapping at the screen for more details, he patches in the medic bay stats. "No changes."

"_Very well. We're counting on you to keep the Tower safe."_

Although all by his lonesome, there's little doubt he'd enjoy cracking some criminal skulls. "They would do us a favor by coming to me now. They would regret trying to harm a fellow Titan."

* * *

><p>Across the water from the Tower, Captain Boomerang and his meal ticket Black Ghost observe the Titans Tower from afar. There isn't time to waste but a little recon never hurt anybody.<p>

"Now with that zealot Baptist causin' a stir Downtown, that give you a right shot at the Watchman. I doubt there's more than one or two in the building standin' guard."

A few extra clips and gadgets seem to line the pockets and belt of the Black Ghost, not to mention one nifty boomerang-shaped "hover-rang" airboard. "Not sure I like this high-tech toy of yours. Are you sure it's safe?"

Slightly offended, the Coast City criminal tips his hat back. "Course I'm sure! I wouldn't be lettin' you try the bloomin' thing if I wasn't sure it'd get you across the way, now would I?"

Accepting the deal, all that's left is the helmet. Before he puts on the piece, one last question's in order. "Once I get inside, how should I let everyone know I've done the job?"

That little bit does a smile to the Aussie's face. "Why not hijack their broadcast signal; the people will freak seein' you cuttin' off the bloke's head on live TV?"

"Not a bad idea, Captain. Now if you'll excuse me."

For a few moments, the criminal mastermind watches with pride. Not only is his hover-rang gliding over the air nicely, the kid's got an open window to a hefty paycheck… and he didn't even have to lift a finger. "Money in the bank and another jab at the League. Life's been good to me, it has." It _would_ be much better had it not been for the sound of a gunshot. Before Boomerang can register the source of the shot, he's quickly dropping to the ground. Although not fatal, there's a growing wound in his shoulder staining his blue coat and scarf. "What… what's going…" A leather shoe moves to his other shoulder, pushing him onto his back to get a better look. "No… how did…"

"It is easier following the man in the blue trench coat covered in boomerangs than a ninja in black." It seems that the master criminal has been followed by an assassin in black and white. Then again, it's the man Daiyu's with that brings the real sense of terror.  
>Turning his scarred face to his trusted assassin, Bulletface seems so nonchalant given the circumstance. "Daiyu, you never lead me astray, do you?" Blowing at the steam in his pistol, the cold eyes of the gun dealer bores into Boomerang's glossy orbs. "Oh I won't let you die, Captain, you're of no use to me dead… for the moment. By the way, Daiyu has a point, it never pays to be so flashy regarding your choice of work, it doesn't get you anywhere. Seriously, who needs to track down some punk with a katana when Daiyu can track down an old man with a boomerang fetish? As for the Black Ghost, don't worry about your friend over on the Tower. I'm doubt anyone <em>anonymous<em> will leave a tip… oh wait, did I ruin the _surprise_?"

* * *

><p>"Are you sure your information is correct? It does not seem like something they would attempt?"<p>

Considering the man before him isn't police or "mask", he seems rather blasé about speaking with a Titan. _"I'm sure. It wouldn't suit the citizens of this city to lose another member of the Titans, even if he is a former member."_

Something in his gut's telling him to hang up on this suspicious man but a little prodding wouldn't hurt. "I have one other concern, Mr. Void, how would a businessman such as you know of this surprise attack?"

"_You're from the Russian interior, yes?"_

"That is correct."

For the first time in their conversation, the man known as Arthur Void offers a smile. _"__Daryonomu konyu v zuby ne smotryat."_

Even Red Star has to admit, you don't find many Americans who can speak his native tongue so fluently. "I will take that to heart, Mr. Void. I thank you for the tip."

"_Udachi¸ Red Star."_

The call is ended, enough for Red Star to engage a few more security sweeps. "I do not understand these businessmen. For a man who says he is merely looking out in concern for our friend, he seems to know more than what he is letting on. Perhaps he is playing poker with me as Cyborg has described…" There's one, a camera aimed at the island's shore facing the city. Movement in the form of a black figure on a hover-rang. "Never look the horse in the mouth… I hope you were correct, Mr. Void."

* * *

><p>Unaware of the security sweep detecting his movement, the Black Ghost moves with speed regardless of detection. If their intel's to be believed, the ground level door is password encrypted, there'll be four floors of stairs to climb, and the medical bay will be facing South…<p>

"_Identify and present I.D. code."_ Glancing at the recorded image of Cyborg on a screen, the Black Ghost merely punches the screen, securing a small block of plastic explosive onto the door.

Although not overly noticeable in the Tower, Red Star pauses before putting on his green shades and hat. "It would seem that our intruduer does not know how to use a door bell."

One stairway down, it's time to tackle the other one. There's times having the speed of the Flash or the flight of the Superman would be useful for someone like the Black Ghost but legs will have to do.

"It is rude to enter one's home _uninvited_." Stopping between the first and second levels on the stairwell, the Illuminati assassin has finally made eye-contact with the Titans' own Red Star. "You will leave here now or there will be… _trouble_." Undeterred, the hitman unsheathes the double-bladed katana, readying the weapon and his courage for the battle to come. "Very well, if it is your intention to fight, I have no choice but to remove you with _force_."

Their fight begins in earnest, a charge up the steps and into the air helps bring the katana down towards Red Star's head. Unaware of the Russian's enhanced strength, it only takes a push of the hand to send the assassin into the wall of the second floor hallway. While the blow was admittedly tough on the body, there wasn't any indication that energy was being used to aid the blow.

"Persistent, aren't you?"

Adjusting the helmet, the Ghost offers a rare quip in retort. "It's what I'm paid to be."

Now the Titan leaps forward, pressing the offensive while maintaining a sense of restraint. An explosion of his powers would do more than hurt Garfield; it would bring down the very Tower itself. Consider also that while the punches he's throwing might feel weak in his mind, the concrete walls seem to indicate there's more than enough force in each. "You are faster than I would have believed."

"And you're holding back."

In a full run now, the Black Ghost hoists his sword in preparation for a strike. However, with a snap of his feet, he leaps over the Russian, tagging him in the back of the coat, and making off for the stairwell. "You will NOT get to the Watchman."

* * *

><p>There isn't a need to explain to any JCN reporters why there's a major brawl breaking out between the Titans and Gar's allies vs. the Baptist, the fight explains itself. What might be hard is explaining why Raven has decided to take off into the air like a bat out of hell, stopping in mid-air to turn towards Titans Tower.<p>

* * *

><p>The fourth floor in the Titans Tower shakes with the sound of a man crashing into an assassin, the energy of the blow tearing a gash into the concrete wall. While Red Star may have the killer contained, the fact is they're only a few doors away from the Watchman; there is no longer any margin for error.<p>

"I said _you will not pass_!"

Too close to use a Desert Eagle pistol, too close to use the katana, it comes down to a few blunt elbow thrusts into Red Star's forehead to loosen his grip. Some distance attained, he bounces off a wall into a back flip, ending with both pistols aimed forward. There will be no dead Titans today; the bullets are easily stopped in mid-air via a current of energy produced from the Russian's hands. Used mainly in defense, the strategy appears to succeed as the bullets fall lifeless to the ground. Holstering the two guns, sword drawn once again, the man in black realizes the distance to the medic bay but there's the issue of the Titan to be dealt with. "A real warrior doesn't hide behind powers."

Wiping away some fluid from his lip, the proud Titan declares back in disdain. "And a true assassin does not need guns to defeat an unarmed man." Strangely complying, the two guns are released from their holsters and, to Red Star's surprise, as is the sword. "So you abandon this fight?"

Gesturing his hand as if saying "bring it," the hitman offers him this one open chance to seal the deal.

Little does the Titan realize that following a flip over his incoming charge, the Black Ghost pops loose a capsule in his hand. While his helmet will protect his lungs from inhaling the gas, the real effect is quickly entering Red Star's brain.

"What have you _done_ to me?" It's not the stoic look of the ninja before him that illicit the fear; it's the glowing sensation in his hands. "No… not here, I cannot… If I do… This place is going to…" The energy just sparks off further and further although it appears the Black Ghost is either ignoring or cannot feel th radiation. "If I explode now, the Tower as well as the Watchman will go with me… I am sorry, Garfield, I cannot do that to this city. Forgive me…"

* * *

><p>Over the edge of the city, the Tower is all that's remains in Raven's vision. It is with great surprise to see Red Star bursting out of the Tower's roof, rocketing off into the sky with a trail of red plasma.<p>

"No…"

* * *

><p>Taking off his helmet, the need for protection fades now that the Tower's pacified. With the slightest hint of ego, the young killer remarks at his victory. "You overestimate yourself because you hold power in your bones." Eyeballing the capsule, he can only ponder what vision it showed him. "Had it not been for this fear gas, I might not have made it to the finish line. No sense stalling, the Titans might be on their way."<p>

Pressing the button leading to the medic bay, all that remains to be seen is the _target_. As expected, the form of Garfield "Watchman" Logan lies in a state of suspended animation, his own visions unknown to the Ghost just as Red Star's. The sword and guns retrieved, it's time to cash in on one hell of a bounty. The Baptist better have drawn their fire because it's no use splitting the payday if he couldn't even lure away the only people who can counter this action.

Blade drawn, it's time to cut off the head of the sleeping man before him. Strange to have him so close and yet so _defenseless_, like a child asleep in it's bed. "Nothing personal, Watchman, strictly business. I hope you'll understand."

The blade comes down right where that scar on his throat would be. How the scar got there he doesn't know but he _does_ know where the next one'll be… That is if a black spark of energy doesn't deflect his blade's edge. "What the? What sort of trickery is…?"

"_There's only one thing you need to understand, Black Ghost."_

His eyes widen much as though an owl's at the sound of the voice in his head. Hell, never mind the voice, the room seems to be turning blacker than his own armor! "Who's there?!"

Rising up out of the floor, a very pissed off red-eyed Raven levitates behind the hapless criminal. Snarling just a little, the "angry Raven" is back for this one. _"You say it's nothing personal? Well, I'm making it personal."_ The guns in his hand vanish as the atoms are ripped apart; the blade is melted into steel powder… And for one hitman, the world has just become one very hellacious place as black tentacles snake their way out of her cloak. _"Oh, Black Ghost, we have such sights to show you…"_

* * *

><p>"<em>Congratulations, Mr. Logan, your wife has given birth to a little, baby girl. She's asking if she could see you."<em>

_Hand to his mouth, more out of happiness than fear, the tension seems to have passed from his tall body. "A girl?"_

"_That's right, a little girl. Come on, it's time you meet you daughter."_

_Patting his friend on the back, the wide smile on Victor Stone says it all. "Congratulations, green bean, you're a daddy now. See, that wasn't so hard, was it?"_

_Still struck by the news, Gar offers a joke to ease the tension, albeit more for his friend than himself. "I bet she's pissed for having to push out my girl like that…"_

_Another smack on the back, this time to press his friend forward, Vic calls out in reply. "Don't worry, she won't give you the red eyes, just go in there already and quit stalling."_

* * *

><p>AN2: I think Raven's justified at having a freak-out now and then... problem is she just went Pinhead on me and I doubt Black Ghost will think twice about the job... or living again. To clear things up, he used a strain of Scarecrow's fear dust on Red Star (a gift from Dr. Light) as a means to subdue the Titan. It's not his job to kill both but rather Watchman, he's a man of his word. Plus I needed a way to make Red Star, well on an even-playing field because in an open space, he'd crush the Ghost.

Trivia:  
>- Void's quote, repeated by Red Star, is "Never look a gift horse in the mouth" in Russian. Udachi is "Good luck", if I recall.<br>- Raven quotes Pinhead from Hellraiser (that's a result from her angry Red side, not her conscious normal side)

Rhetorical:  
>Goddamn Gar has no idea what's going on and it's gonna piss him off so bad... well... can't ruin surprises.<p> 


	29. Chapter 29

A/N: Sorry for the delay everybody, I've been to New York City and Philadelphia last week while dealing with one hell of a chest cold. I've also been trying to get back into meditation and spiritualism so it can be difficult writing heavy, dark material when I'm trying to get in touch with inner peace. This chapter (for the criminals) is much lighter in tone only because dark humor seems to fit them. For the "good guys", this is heavy.

**Redux 3: There Goes My Hero**

"I Feel Fear for the Last Time…"

Chapter Six:

"_Hmm, what's this?" The bloodshot green eyes of a married father scan the writing left on the black-coated refrigerator with all the enthusiasm of a teenage goth. "Gar, your daughter wants animal toys…" Stifling a small laugh on his part at her successful attempt at literary sarcasm, his eyes read on. "We'll be home some time after lunch. Don't forget Kristy turns two this weekend. – Rachel." _

_Yawning with all the grace of a lion in the savannah, he dutifully taps his head for the mental note. Once the idea finally sinks in that he'll be alone today, something akin to a smile etches across that face of his."Well, if the girls are gonna be out all morning, can't hurt to work on the ol' hobby."_

_An hour later Garfield steps into a rather cynically-named gun store by the name of "Bullet Bryson's Gun Sales." For the war-scarred man behind the counter, the sight of the tall, green man with the black case strung over his shoulder means business… and maybe catching up with an old customer. "Mornin' Watchman, I haven't seen you in some time."_

_Putting down the case on the glass display, Gar shrugs with a tinge of guilt. "Bryson, you know I don't use that name anymore. Besides, I've been too busy with the wife and daughter to get some practice in. Hell, I'm not even supposed to be here."_

_Keeping an eye on the tall man across the glass, he doesn't shy away from eyeing up Gar's Mossberg 590A1 shotgun. "Ah still have the old twelve gauge? I had thought you would've traded up by now since the Army traded up?"_

_Gesturing for a box of shells, Gar comments on his signature weapon. "Now now, she's old but she's reliable. She's saved my life more times than… well…"_

"_Bet she did. You here to buy some rounds or you wanna take a few shots in the back?"_

_Looking towards the door in the back of the room, then back to Bryson… back to the door… back to Bryson. "Wife's gonna be pissed…"_

_Taking that as a yes, he nods towards the rear with a smile on his face. "C'mon, I'll even set the targets up for you."_

* * *

><p>March 22, 2011<p>

Raven hadn't exactly _planned_ to be standing in an old clinic in North Jump; it just seemed _right_ at the moment. No Titans, no Illuminati hitmen, no _League_… A good place to center one's self, form some balance in the mind following the other day's action with the Black Ghost.

"_Raven, you… what did you do to him?"_

"_I'm not sure… He was going to cut Gar's head off. I stopped him, said something, and then everything went black."_

Nightwing's voice finishes in her head with the same words she'd been hearing for the past 48 hours. _"He's comatose, he won't respond to anything. It's like he's a blank slate inside. Raven, did you do to him what you did to Doctor Light?"_

Palming her face, the empath can only wonder that herself. "I didn't _mean_ to rip his mind out like that; I just wanted him to get away from Gar." No replies this time, no memory of Nightwing to respond to, only the sound of quiet mice and wind can fill the void inside this derelict room. "Maybe I've been taking this too seriously. If I'm going to terrorize every person close to Gar, I'll just keep hurting more and more people until I hurt _him_ too."

Thankfully both her Titan communicator and League earpiece are turned off lest one of the Titans' tries another pep-talk like Cyborg tried to give. He _did_ try, she can credit him on that, but it took a long time to clear up the fear after she terrorized Dr. Light, this will take just as long if not longer if the Black Ghost doesn't recover. Still palming her face, the bitter irony happens to enter her mind as she looks about the place once again. "You'd probably laugh at me right now if you saw where I was right now. The only place in the Bay Area I can go to get _away_ from everything around you is the _first_ place you made home when you left us. You left the Tower to make a follow a different path, I left to make a better life… We've come full circle."

* * *

><p>For a large man in Jump City County lockup, the loss of poker cards and his cross necklace is as hateful as the fact he's had to sit next to a intoxicated, recently "enlightened" drug abuser with a bad accent. At least they've let him keep his bible, a small relief in a building that's anything but. "Keep it down, rabbithead, or I'll rip that mouth of yours right out."<p>

Patting him on the shoulder rather bluntly, albeit unintentionally, his cellmate laughs it off. "Look, I don't _mean_ to slur, but the rabbit takes _time_ to get through me… I can't just…"

Beating him in the head with the bible, John the Baptist snarls a bit to vent his irritation. "You _can_ and you _will_ lest you see the true God sooner than God intended!"

"Hey, _Baptist_, keep your hands off the rabbithead. Your attorney's here to see you so keep your hands off the nice lady."

Popping up an eyebrow at sound of his defender being a _woman_, he dutifully rises to his feet to meet her at the bars. His curiosity quickly slides into inner-wisdom as he notices his lovely public defender happens to have red eyes. "And what do I owe this visit, miss?"

Casting a look at the guard down the hall, Rose Desade doesn't approve of him eyeing up her black skirt or what's _under_ said dress. "We're here to discuss the terms of your _release_, Mr. Reilly, not waste my time away from the office."

Sly and slick as ever, the hitman for hire merely nods and smiles that much wider. "So, ma'am, what are the _terms_ of my release?"

From her briefcase, she produces a bible unlike his other one. "For one thing, they aren't giving the _appropriate_ version of the King James."

Standing up now, the guard raises his hand to protest. "Ma'am, you can't hand anything to the prisoner, he…"

A second time she snaps a glare at him, this one much colder than before. "You deny my client his basic constitutional right to worship his own religion in his own way? How about we go upstairs and file charges against _you_ for violating the first amendment?" Knowing his role, the guard promptly sits his ass back in his seat. No need for a complaint, he doesn't need a third glare from those red eyes.

"Thank you for the good book. May the Lord smile upon you for keeping me in contact with Him."

Hiding her own smile at the plan unfolding so smoothly, she maintains her character to remind him. "In fifteen minutes I'll be meeting with my staff to discuss how to proceed with your case. I'm sure we can work out a deal with your employer as to proper working arrangement _providing_ you behave yourself. This won't be a long meeting so make sure you do some quick _praying_ with that God of yours. Have a good day, Mr. Reilly."

No sooner than those fifteen minutes after Rose's departure, the bible is opened to reveal a hollow insert inside. No, they don't explode nor shine with magnesium light but these cards are razor sharp. All it takes is a thought and those cards embed themselves into the rabbithead, the guard, the cell lock, and the camera at the end of the hall. "Rose Desade, you devil you, thank you for making the Lord's work easier on me. Now, how about I got meet up with that lady and her staff?"

* * *

><p>"Sometimes I wonder if this deal's any better than Grodd's. I try to make a little money off the religious fuck and he goes and gets himself <em>caught<em> just he can split the deal with Ghost. Hell, I'm glad the little shit got his mind raped but now I gotta break that zealot out of County, gettin' my name in the paper again…"

If Atomic Skull's grumbling wasn't bad enough, hearing the alarms going off at the County lockup are even worse. Something or rather someone seems to be making an early exit. "Heh, my money's on the Baptist."

* * *

><p>The pain in his shoulder notwithstanding, the fogginess in George Harkness's head doesn't seem from trauma but rather from anesthetics. Groggy, tried, the Central City criminal struggles to form words. "What's… going…?"<p>

With the grace of a rapier through flesh, Bulletface Bryson wakes up the Australian with a sharp backhand across the cheek. _"Wake up, Boomerang! Plenty of time to sleep when you're dead."_

Still out of it, the Aussie wonders aloud in the darkness. "Didn't know you had Flagg on the payroll… where is the old badger at?"

"_Put the light in his face; wake this piece of shit up!"_

* * *

><p>Standing outside and around their van, the remaining Desades seem rather surprised as the Baptist simply strolls out of County, bloody cards in his hands, but doesn't appear to be bothered by them in the slightest.<p>

"Is it just me or he just downright creepy?"

Smacking her goon upside the head, Rose doesn't seem to appreciate the comment. "He can cut our heads off with a single thought, dipshit, don't piss him off!"

Stepping up to the van, the Baptist remains unconcerned regarding the alarms going off in the building behind him. "So… is this the famed Rose Desade gang?"

"We're all that's left. We got about twenty guys all together; we could really use your help."

Looking behind his back, it appears they have some heavy-duty company. "So it would seem."

"BAPTIST!" There's more than one in Rose's group looking scared as the Atomic Skull comes tearing through the parking lot. "Get the fuck back here, NOW!"

Tearing her eyes from the Illuminati metahuman, Rose puts a hand on the broad shoulder of the Baptist. "We don't have much money but we want the Watchman's head on a plate."

Turning to the daughter of Desade, the killer gambler offers a smile. "Call it an investment."

Seeing the group scatter into their vans, the green-glowing criminal howls with hate. "Oh you did NOT just ditch me! This time _I'M_ tearing off your head!" Before he can get a shot off with his powers, the vans make haste and bolt. Reinforcement police appear to be incoming but not before he spots a guard shooting at the vans from a parked bike. "I always wanted to ride an iron horse."

* * *

><p>Still drugged out of his mind, Boomerang tries to keep from slurring too badly but it's no use, Daiyu's drug just was a <em>little<em> too strong. "Oh this is just great; he's higher than the damn Watchtower!"

"Hey boss, you might want to come check this shit out."

Waving off his hired henchman, Bryson's too busy pacing to give a damn about, well, whatever it is.

"No seriously boss, you're gonna flip over this."

Both of them getting on his nerves, the urge to resist finally gives way to frustrated defeat. "Fine, _what the fuck_'s so important that I have to come over here and…. Oh you have to be _kidding_ me?"

* * *

><p>"Yes we're following a high speed chase through Downtown Jump City where it appears JCPD are in pursuit of several vans believed to be transporting the Baptist… and, hold on, this just in… They're also in pursuit of a police bike being driven by the Illuminati's Atomic Skull who <em>also<em> happens to be trailing the Baptist!"

"_What's that? Are you saying the police are chasing the Baptist or are they chasing both?"_

The JCN chopper veers to avoid a building but does it's damndest to keep the camera on the chase. "The JCPD are chasing after the Baptist who just broke out of Jump City County in a bloody scene… And it appears the Atomic Skull's following behind on a police motorbike for reasons we haven't yet heard about."

* * *

><p>Dodging several bullets fired his way; the Atomic Skull keeps his eyes firmly locked on the vans eluding him. Using his fire attacks would be easy but getting his pick in the bet back alive is more important than revenge. "Get your motor runnin'… head out on the highway… lookin' for adventure… and whatever comes MY way!"<p>

Looking in his side mirror, the driver in Rose and Baptist's van looks more and more worried. "Haven't you guys shot him yet? He looks like the fucking Ghost Rider back there!"

Chuckling to himself, the Baptist has to admit. "Huh, never thought of that." What he also didn't think about was how sharp the turn was leading onto the Bay Bridge. Rather comically the occupants of the van are thrown to one side as the vehicle executes a near ninety degree turn. "Careful you idiot!"

* * *

><p>Rubbing his temples, Bulletface finds himself slumping down into a chair. "Between Daiyu drugging Captain Australia and the Baptist back out on the street, I don't think I can take much more of this. Someone get me a drink."<p>

* * *

><p>Hearing voices in her head isn't something too far out of place given her division of emotions running loose in Nevermore. However, when the voice in question sounds a lot like the Question but more sinister, one begins to wonder about their sanity.<p>

"Who said that?"

A quaint laughter in her head sounds more ominous than jovial. _"I suppose you haven't been watching the news, little raven. You've been sulking in Watchman's home for so long that I'll wager you haven't even heard the latest development."_

There's no more caution there, only irritation. "I don't know who you are but entering _my_ mind isn't a good idea."

"_If you think talking to yourself will scare me, you better shed your wings and become a bat. Only bats can frighten me."_

Looks like Gar wasn't kidding when he said he had a "visitor" in his head every so often. "Scarecrow I presume?"

"_The one and only."_

"What do you want?"

There's another sort of chuckle on his part although far less mean than before. _"You can start by turning on the news or flying over to the Bay Bridge, that'd be a nice start indeed. Don't wait too long, you'll miss an opportunity to say hello to the Baptist."_

* * *

><p>Opening the throttle even more, Atomic Skull catches a break as the Desades try to reload. Moving his bike out of their line of fire, he speeds up to the side of his target. There's a certain tingle in his spine as he's sure the driver has pissed his pants in fear. Flipping off a glowing ember of a middle finger, the Atomic Skull yells over the rush of wind. "Pull over, you got a busted <em>tail light<em>!"

Rose jumps in front of the driver, almost sending the van careening out of control. "Fuck you dirtbag!"

Easing off the gas as she fires several shots at him, it seems this can only be done the hard way. "Hate to leave a perfectly good bike but this is gonna take some muscle." Leaping off the bike, the Illuminati strongman latches onto the side of the van, digging in with his powerful hands.

"Don't stop now, we're gonna shake him off."

"WHAT?!"

"I said DON'T STOP NOW, WE'RE GONNA…"

"WHAT?! I CAN'T HEAR YOU! YOU FUCKING PULLED THE TRIGGER RIGHT NEXT TO MY HEAD!"

Looking as calm and nonchalant as possible despite the glowing green embers forming on the wall, the Baptist merely gestures towards the problem. While he's just as deaf as his associates in the vehicle, it seems his wits are more about him than the driver. "ROSE! CUT THE SIDE OFF!"

"What?"

"CUT THE SIDE OFF!"

"What?"

"CUT…. THE… GODDAMN…"

"OH!"

Snickering at the fear his entry will bring the passengers, Atomic Skull rips at the metal with extra intensity. "A few more seconds and I'll met this shit right…"

The problem isn't getting through the metal, the problem happens to be a claw of a hand cutting four lines around his body in a rectangle. Before the criminal realizes, the section of the van he'd been holding onto happens to drop right off the vehicle like bad luggage. There's a mixture of pain from hitting the asphalt at speed, cursing from being _dropped_ at said speed, more cursing from nearly being run over by a few cop cars, and one long groan of pain as his scratched up body comes to a stand still two hundred feet along the Bay Bridge. "I hate this city…" If he hated the city before hand, seeing a woman hovering above him in the sky just brings the bitterest taste of radiation and hate the world will ever know.

* * *

><p>"<em>Hey, Bryson, would you mind if I took some shots by myself?"<em>

_Surprised by the odd request, the store owner has to double check that one. "Any reason? I won't interrupt or anything."_

_Looking down the range, the eyes of Gar don't seem quite so bright. "Got some old demons to deal with; I haven't done this in some time."_

"_Guess that comes with the job, right? Ok, I'll be out here when you're done. Aim well."_

_The shooting begins slowly, softly, one shot to the chest, another to the head. Each bullet comes out smooth from the black barrel, hardly any recoil on the shoulder. "Seemed like a cannon when I was younger."_

_The next few shots come faster, this time moving up the chest towards the neck. Bang, lung. Bang, throat. Bang…. Bang…. Bang…_

_In his vision he can see a white target and a black wall behind it but in his mind there's people, buildings. Men in suits with automatic weapons, Chinese Triads with handguns, drug pushers… Bang… Irish fighters and a drunken boss singing with a swaggering, bass-lined voice… Bang… A woman this time, set on fire as the bullet strikes her. Click. That sound doesn't register in his head, only the sound of a shot enters the void inside his ears. While the gun doesn't fire, he can practically feel another round leaving the gun, this time taking out a man in a bookie joint. Another empty pump, another empty pull of the trigger, this time a hired gun has his knee cap blown off._

_Click… click… click…_

_Then the tears come like they used to back then. With hands shaking and the barrel's sight losing focus, the grim reality of his life bursts through the walls he'd so cleverly built since meeting his wife in that park. The child they'd both helped create would grow up in the shadow of a man who brought justice to Jump City through gunfire and animalistic terror. She'd never know how he'd gotten the money to live in their house nor why daddy doesn't let her in the basement. Hard to explain why there's a bloody trench coat, guns, knives, grenades, and too many pictures of friends he's lost along the way sitting all alone, hidden from the world under their house.  
><em>

_Like it or not, there's no way he could go back to being the Watchman, not when his little Kristy and beautiful wife Rachel look to him as the man of the house. He's a father and a husband now, living in abandoned buildings simply cannot happen any more. If he's to make a better life for his daughter and wife, Garfield Mark Logan must finally put the Watchman behind him. Otherwise, there's the possiblity that the two women left in his life just might see the grave before he's had a chance to be buried. That's no longer an option for the former vagrant vigilante.  
><em>

* * *

><p>Edited, a reluctant thank you to Anonymous Void for pointing out the many errors this chapter had.<p>

A/N2: Gar's missing all the fun. Why's Baptist fleeing from Atomic Skull? I don't think he's really "Illuminati" material, he's just in things for the cash. While Rose might not have a lot of cash, their goals (and history) tend to coincide. The Ghost Rider reference came to me today thinking how similiar Atomic Skull and Ghost Rider would look riding bikes together. Ever notice whenever Raven's not around Gar, she's not in his dream?

Trivia:  
>- Gorilla Grodd shoutout.<br>- Steppenwolf's "Born to be Wild" sung by Atomic Skull.  
>- Ghost Rider of Marvel fame.<p>

Rhetorical:  
>Rose Desade is quickly becoming fun to write as a fucked up criminal. She's pretty much stupid (shooting next to her driver's head, the dumbass) but also darkly funny. By the way, Gar's "dream" is starting to crack.<p> 


	30. Chapter 30

A/N: Eric is tired. Between Thursday and Sat I drove 700 miles (breakfast, football, and concert) and I'm still feeling the effects. This chapter's back on track with seriousness as we're coming into the final third of the arc. Gar's dream's slowly breaking down but the pace will increase. We get to see a brief Firefly fight, enjoy it because it's brief. Oh, to Annonymous Void, know that your OC makes me smile when I write him, he's so evil it might as well be like literary crack cocaine.

**Redux 3: There Goes My Hero**

"I Feel Fear for the Last Time…"

Chapter Seven:

_Cracks of gunfire, screams, blood on the streets, and burning wrecks of vehicles strewn throughout Downtown Jump City. A man in black directs legions of zombies throughout the urban sprawl, killing innocents by the hundreds and forcing all police and army personnel to retreat. Even the so-called "superheroes" are picked off one by one as the numberless horde of undead overtakes them, leaving only three to stand in the way of the torrent. Unfortunately for the Logan family, no amount of shotgun shells or psychic energy can stop them. Like an avalanche of snow coming down the Rockies, it's only a matter of time before they…_

_Bolting up from his nightmare, the head of the Logan family pants heavily as his lungs desperately pull in fresh oxygen. With beads of sweat rolling down his flesh, it takes his mind a few moments to register the off-blue walls of the master bedroom. There are no zombies ripping him apart, no monsters tearing his wife limb-from-limb, and certainly no man in black impaling his daughter in the chest. "Of all the fucking dreams…"_

_Uncaring if the cold tiles of the kitchen numb his feet, there's an urgent need for fluid for his parched throat and the sink will have to do. One cup fills up then promptly empties itself into the bowels of his body, hopefully easing the tension that had been brewing since the nightmare's end._

_Perhaps the feeling of dread would subside if there wasn't the peculiar feeling of being watched from the shadows. It's uneasy at first, almost like post-nightmare paranoia, but something about it feels both unfamiliar and yet strangely normal. At this point the sound, or rather sounds, enter the sharp ears of the Watchman, pulling his attention to a window in the kitchen. As he peers outside, the peculiar suddenly morphs into the strange._

_Slowly, cautiously, he exits the back door. There seems to be an icy chill in the air but curiosity overrides the body's aversion to the cold. With each step towards the source of the sound, the voices get louder and louder. Some sound like men, others like women, all seem mixed and confusing as they wail and flow in a dizzying waltz of sound. Each hair on his body reaches for the sky, the forward steps seem shorter in distance, and if the breath he'd been holding back is troubling his mind, his body doesn't seem to care. _

_Under the darkness of the willow tree in the yard, there seems to be something taking shape at the source of the sound. Larger than he by several feet, wider as well, the object appears as dark and impenetrable as the night itself. With each step towards the rectangular object, the sounds increase to an almost deafening pitch, the sheer speed of the sound feels as though something's pulling him through space. In the sound he can clearly pick out the voices of friends, family even… but what's driving this wretched object is beyond his mind. With only a few steps to take, he begins to raise his hand. Whatever this thing is, it's real enough to touch, if only he can will his body to reach._

"_GAR! GET BACK!"_

* * *

><p>March 25, 2011<p>

"You know, I get a _lot_ of weird visitors, Doctor, but I rarely get someone who happens to be on Jump City's most wanted list. I hope you don't mind me asking this but what must it be like to be a _super criminal_ like yourself?"

It's bad enough Doctor Light's had to cancel the bet on account of two of his associates disappearing but it's even worse to have to sit across the desk from Jump City's most corrupt businessman. Adding insult to injury is the lack of his bodyguards _plus_ the lack of his power suit. "Look in the mirror, Mr. Void; you will see the epitome of corporate corruption. If it's all the same with you, I'd rather not waste any more of my time pretending we _like_ each other."

Leaning back in his rather plush, leather chair, the Void Industries CEO turns to his trusty bodyguard, casually passing down the orders. "Xavier, you can drown out what we're about to discuss. I know you're not into boring, business mumbo-jumbo."

Eyebrow quirked as this Xavier seems to close his eyes as though sleeping; Doctor Light's curiosity gives his present mission pause. "I take it he's as loyal as a dog?"

"A dog who knows who locks up the kibbles and bits each night. Now, Doctor Light, what is it you've come here to do besides ruin the gentle flow of my day?"

Balling his fist, the Illuminati leader would only need one blast from his suit to eliminate this arrogant fuck. However, this is not the time for violence but rather a time for _brilliant_ negotiation. "Captain Boomerang's been missing for almost a week, I want him back."

Nonchalantly retrieving a cigar from a wooden box in his desk, the businessman goes about the duty of cutting it at the edge. "I like Fuente Don Arturo, the AnniverXario type. They're a couple of years old now but I paid 7,500 for them. Do you smoke?"

"ANSWER ME YOU SON OF A BITCH!"

Doctor Light's outburst notwithstanding, it seems he's running low on matches for his cigar. After a few firm puffs of the exquisite tobacco, the CEO finally begins his own style of negotiation. "Please behave yourself, Doctor; you are in a place of business. As far as this so-called _hostage_, I know of no one by the name Captain Boomerang. What would make you believe that I, a reputable businessman of high esteem, would even _bother_ to associate with criminal scum who wear such outlandish costumes?"

"_Scum?"_

A thick puff of smoke is all it takes to get the older criminal to start a coughing session before him. "Yes, _scum_. Why would anyone choose to run around _in broad daylight_ wearing spandex and brightly colored outfits? It almost _screams_ "hey, look at me; I have issues, come arrest me!" If you masks and superheroes want attention so bad, go seek a therapist, it's clear you have some… issues… regarding your self-esteem."

Gnashing his teeth at the obvious insult thrown his way, he dares the wrath of Xavier but this prick's gone too far. "Tell me where Captain Boomerang is before I make this building put the _spark_ back in this place via one big fucking truckbomb!"

Tapping his chin with his free hand, Arthur Void finds the opportunity to switch gears a little. "I _may_ happen to know of a man by the name of George Harkness… I hear he's gotten himself in trouble with that nasty Bulletface Gang. I personally wouldn't deal with them, however, I hear Bulletface Bryson has a nasty temper and doesn't like people snooping around."

"WHERE IS HE!"

Seeing his bodyguard wake back up, Void gestures with his hand to stand down for Doctor Light's sake. "Please, Doctor Light, refrain from yelling if you please. Be happy I care to listen to your childish outbursts for so long. If you _really_ want to retrieve your strange Australian friend, all you have to do is _ask_ where he is, that's all."

* * *

><p>"So how long do you kids plan on keeping me locked up in this little Tower? I have my rights you know and you seem to be holding me without charges."<p>

Looking across the stasis field is the collective gathering of the Titans minus Raven. While the Atomic Skull might be stronger than some of the members, the custom-built stasis field constructed by Cyborg should be enough to keep the powerhouse criminal locked up. As proud as the metal man might be at his creation, Nightwing's temporary prison seems more like a liability given their newest guest. "You're staying here as long as the bounty remains on the Watchman's head. Once Doctor Light turns back the hit, we turn you over to the JCPD."

"Besides," Cyborg can't help but jump in on the fun "we wouldn't you breaking out like your hand-picked assassin did the other day, right? How'd that work out for you?"

Punching at the walls, it seems they've gotten under the supercriminal's thick skin. "Let me out and I'll show you, tin man. How about I rip that arm off and use it like a baseball bat?"

"We have bigger things to worry about, do yourself a favor and don't start any trouble. If you try to break out, we'll know."

Snarling at the thought of being spoken down to, Atomic Skull's words seem prophetic but not at this moment. "You'll regret this, bird boy; I'll make sure of it."

* * *

><p>Tapping the brake a little harder than expected, the unusual quartet of Livewire, T&amp;P, Jake Dewalt, and Rebecca Sinclair pull up outside a rather unordinary-looking apartment building outside of Chinatown. It's bad enough the two criminals in the back don't pay for gas but having one complain they're a block away from the target just gets on his last nerve.<p>

"Hey, Jake, you gonna get us any closer or you gonna make us walk in the cold?"

A pair of cigarettes couldn't drown out that spark plug so sarcasm will have to do. "You're electric, Livewire, you don't _feel_ cold."

"Yeah but where we're goin' it's gonna get hot, fast."

Turning to look at the two in the back of the vehicle, Rebecca serves as the voice of reason. "We don't know if our information's correct but if it is, expect the worst. Now that the Titans have Atomic Skull, don't be surprised if Firefly resists."

Snapping her tattoo gun up for the crew to see, T&P reminds the older woman of her trademark skill. "Just give me a needle and point me at the pyro. We can handle the rest."

Giving the tattoo artist a jolt of an elbow poke, Livewire can't wait for the reward. "Just think how much the boy scouts in the League will pay for Firefly. Maybe we'll even get the Bat to pick him up?"

"Well, Doctor Light, I'm sad to see you go. We've had such a productive meeting. I apologize for any rudeness on the part of my associate here but Xavier is rather protective of me these days."

* * *

><p>The situation can hardly be called enjoyable for Doctor Light, especially as he's roped into shaking hands with the CEO at the door. For all the trouble he's had to endure since this bet began, dealing with one smug, amoral businessman has been the biggest pain in the ass to date. "If you're lying about Captain Boomerang..."<p>

Patting the older man on the shoulder, Void offers both a car salesman smile as well as a tight grip on said shoulder. "Yes, yes, you'll unleash your little club on me. I assure you my word is my bond. Now if Bulletface moved him is out of my hands but I'm confident he can be found at the address I have provided."

A new arrival has appeared, one that Xavier doesn't seem anxious to meet. While the two Arthurs separate, it's the CEO who ushers the Doctor from the office. If Void's smugness didn't irritate Doctor Light, the sly grin and missing eye of this new man inspires it to another level. "Mr. Wilson, it's been far too long. Please, come inside. I have cigars and a bottle of something expensive just waiting to be uncorked."

* * *

><p>Sneaking up behind the apartment building Firefly's <em>supposed<em> to be hiding in; Jake and Rebecca have guns in their hands, looking for any sign of a fleeing madman. Still the irony of the situation doesn't pass either of them although it's up to the former JCPD Detective to voice it. "When did we become bounty hunters?"

Entering the building, Jake looks over his shoulder with a weary smile. "When did we start doing Gar's dirty work?"

Livewire follows behind T&P, keeping an ear out for anything out of the blue. T&P has her gun pointed forward, very much like her human associates down the hall, but unfortunately for her those needles in her gun don't punch through flesh as easily as bullets. "It's quiet."

Livewire considers moving through the lighting in the ceiling but without knowing where Firefly is, it'll just be a waste of her powers. "It's not good to chat when you're hunting people."

"The building, thunderhead, it's _quiet_."

Scratching at her head, the fact of the building's noise does seem rather odd. "Think Firefly chased them out?"

"I don't hear anybody in the building."

Gun pointed up the rear stairwell, Jake's been thinking the same but given who's here, there's good reason. "He's probably chased everybody out, makes it easier to move in case someone comes for him."

"How many floors are there?"

"Knowing him he's at the sixth floor. Bastard wants us to get tired before we get to him."

Grimacing at the thought of going up so high, it's the revelation that the sixth floor's the highest that pisses her off. "We'll see how smart he is once we put a foot up his burned-up ass."

At the end of the fourth floor, both groups signal each other from across the way that the coast is clear. Only two more flights until the top floor but it appears that won't be necessary. With a door opening in the middle of the building, it only takes a match to ignite what appears to be a stream of fluid on the floor.

"GAS!"

Running down a few floors, they look up at the growing inferno, hoping he's not crazy enough to jet down after them. An escape from on-high won't be coming as he glides over the flame and down the steps towards Jake and Rebecca.

"Aim for the jetpack."

Spitting at the thought, Jake aims for the helmet. "Fuck that, time to take the easy way."

There is no easy way as they both need to jump into the 2nd floor hallway. A second later a jet of ignited flame burns the steps they'd been standing on, Firefly in hot pursuit. "Jake, he's coming around!"

Looking back, he notices they're not alone. "SPARKY! SHOOT!" Grabbing his partner, Jake kicks down a door and pulls both of their bodies inside. For the pyromaniac, a stream of electricity and needles lies in his path, a testament to Jake's diversion.

Peeking his head back out, a cautious Jake suddenly becomes a nervous one as he realizes the arsonist merely pulled back and avoided the tandem attack. "Looks like you missed, Sparky."

Running past, the two criminals search for the fire-bound criminal although Livewire doesn't hesistate to flip the bird at the investigator. "You see him T&P?"

"He's gone back up the stairwell towards the 4th floor. He might be making a break for it."

Balling her fists, the instinct to fight overtakes the electric metahuman. "I'll get him. Cover the other exit in case he tries somethin' funny."

As smoke begins to fill the 5th and 6th floors, Livewire appears on the 5th to confront the man in the faux-firefly getup. "Hey, firebug, take a chill pill before I put the zap back in you."

"So, when did you turn hero? It's not like you, being a Superman rogue and all."

Hands aiming forward, it's time to put this creep into the flames for good. "I ain't no Superman rogue, Firefly, I'm my own girl and don't you forget it."

Aiming his flamethrower as well, a little more psychology could buy him the time he needs. "You've traded Superman for the Watchman. Gotta say, you don't like getting ahead, do you?" Leaping forward with a stream of charged particles exiting her hand, her aim's off as the wall of the apartment crashes outward but no dead pyromaniac to be had. He's too busy zipping about the room, his jetpack adding further flame to the floor. "So sad to see someone with such talent fall so far. It's not too late you know, we could always use you in the Illuminati."

"Buzz off, creep, I don't need to follow some old guy in a light costume to make my mark in life."

With a long stream of flame, Firefly's careful to avoid hitting her directly but it's not her life he's seeking to ignite but more of the building. "Pity, you waste your talents with those pathetic North Jump scum downstairs. Tell me, do you think they'll look better BBQ'd or extra crispy?"

"Why you no good bastard, I'll…" Before her statement can conclude, there's the sound of crashing wood and coughing down below to fill her ears. "Whoa now, the building's gonna collapse at this rate."

Still as cool and calm as someone in a grass field, Firefly ignores the great heat, daring his adversary. "What'll it be? Me or your so-called friends?"

Before the decision can be undertaken, Livewire takes a moment to warn this son of a bitch. "Next time we meet, Firefly, I won't be so gentle, you got that?"

"I love a woman who can light my fire."

Sighing, the electric woman bursts through the flooring below, intent on getting to the trio a few flights down. "And I thought my puns were bad, gah."

* * *

><p>"Raven, what's up? You've been gone for days. You've been doing that a lot it seems."<p>

Taking her seat next to Gar's still form, the sullen psychic of Azarath sighs while leaning into her seat. "Been busy, Nightwing, it's a big city and it's not getting smaller any time soon. The good news is some of Gar's friends chased down Firefly but they say he set a building on fire to get away."

"That's a shame; we could've gotten all three of Doctor Light's lieutenants out of the way."

Looking up at her former leader, Raven continues her simple report. "There's rumors going around that Doctor Light called off the bet on account of Captain Boomerang and Atomic Skull being captured. I'm not sure I trust it but I really hope it's genuine."

"Me too, Raven. Anything else? You look worried."

Putting her hand on Gar's limp one, she wonders the next thought aloud more to herself. "I'm wondering if the other rumor's true. I heard the Baptist joined up with Antoine Desade's daughter, Rose Desade. The guy I spoke with said she has a weird love/hate thing with Gar. If she's working with Baptist that means she'll be after that bounty, if it's still open that is."

"That'll complicate things. With the Black Ghost in the hospital and Daiyu remaining quiet this whole time, I'd hoped this would've all been dealt with."

"Me too, Nightwing, me too."

* * *

><p>Back at his HQ, Doctor Light's relieved to see that one of his three lieutenants had the courage and skill to survive an attempt on their freedom. Whereas Captain Boomerang's taken hostage by Bulletface and Atomic Skull to the Titans, Firefly's shown himself capable of taking on both metahumans and regular humans. On more pressing matters, the map on the table presents itself an aerial view of the Titans Tower and the ocean around it. With several other metahumans present, it's time to announce his plan.<p>

"In one week we will attack Titans Tower using a combined assault on the island. We'll be using landing craft to deploy eighty of our own men supported by metahumans while a covert force will move under the Tower via tunnels forged by Slade several years ago. I'm tired of being embarrassed by the people of this city and it's time we shut those bastard Titans and Watchman up once and for all. Assemble who you think would work best in close-quarter combat then report back to me. The Illuminati's reputation and pride rests on this fight, we cannot afford to fail."

* * *

><p>"<em>Rachel? What the hell is this thing?"<em>

_Pulling back her husband away from the rapidly quieting rectangle, the worry and anger in her voice seems rather strange given the situation. "It's a monolith, Gar; it's an extra-dimension avatar of death. I've been trying to keep it isolated from us for years but even my abilities can't stop it forever."_

"_Is it dangerous? It's not going to hurt Kristy, is it?"_

_Clenching his hand tightly out of concern, she warns him of the danger. "It only appears when we're at our most vulnerable, under stress. You had another nightmare, it feeds off of that."_

"_How do we get rid of it?"_

_Cupping his face to look at hers, the soft gaze of his wife seems to help calm him down a little. "Think positive thoughts, happy thoughts. Imagine the three of us together without pain or worry and it will lose it's hold. Soon it will vanish but we cannot give in to depression or sadness, understand?"_

"_If you say so, babe. You're the one with the special powers. If it keeps it away from the three of us, I'll do whatever it takes to keep us safe…" Allowing a grin to form on his face, Gar wiggles his eyebrows at the thought entering his mind. "Happy, positive thoughts, huh? What about… sweet, sweet loving thoughts?"_

_A mixture of a grin and a glare enters her ashen face as she playfully taps him on the head. "Jerk. Now lets get inside, it's freezing out here."_

_Agreeing, the two make for the door. Before entering, however, the fact that the monolith isn't there anymore seems to validate her point… but there's something about this whole thing that feels just a little fishy._

* * *

><p>AN2: What, did you think I was going to refer to everything in this chap before it happened? Monoliths and one-eyed visitors for Void, I don't like spoiling all. I wanted to make sure one of Light's men didn't get captured although I'm not sure I pulled off a proper pyro fight. Is it just me or is "Rachel" hiding something about the monolith?

Trivia:  
>- A man in black leading zombies?<br>- Fuente Don Arturo AnniverXario legit cost 7,500 a box.  
>- The man with one eye named Mr. Wilson? Oh c'mon, that's too easy.<br>- More shoutouts to Livewire's past with Superman.  
>- The other "Mr. Wilson" reference regarding those tunnels Slade's machines dug underneath Titans Tower, it'll play a role in this series.<p>

Rhetorical  
>The monolith reference (and singing aspect) is for you sci-fi buffs out there, I don't like ruining a shout-out to one of my favorite films. It'll be used in context to Gar's awakeningenlightenment from his dreamworld. 


	31. Chapter 31

A/N: Please excuse this excessively long wait between chapters. Between Christmas Eve and New Years, I caught a variation of the flu that's been flooding the US. It ruined two of my holidays and killed most of my creative drive. This chapter underwent three, maybe four different drafts before this erupted from my head last night into this evening. It's not an "action chapter" although it does have a twist. It's the last "political" chapter before the two-part arc-ending battle. Gar's mindfuck's about to take a real turn for the "what the hell?"  
>Sorry if there's errors, I'm VERY tired right now and I needed to get this done.<p>

**Redux 3: There Goes My Hero**

"I Feel Fear for the Last Time…"

Chapter Eight:

"_Kristy, you take any more time getting ready, you're gonna miss all the fun."_

_From upstairs, a rather impatient young girl calls back down the steps to her father. "Be right down, I'm putting on the mask."_

_Truthfully Gar's not in too much of a rush, Halloween's for the kids, certainly not for the adults. Taking a seat on his couch to relax before the long walk around the neighborhood, he can't help but notice the irony of it all. Halloween's usually a time for pranks, something he was notorious for in his youth. Years ago he'd been one to use the holiday to prank his friends, set up some horror jokes for the conversation, now he's a father about to walk his daughter around for the neighborhood for trick-or-treat. He's come a long way, indeed._

"_Ok, I'm ready."_

_Turning his head over to the left, Gar's curiosity as to her costume choice changes into momentary shock as the sight standing at the base of the steps enters his view. While only a child's height, a creature with long, black hair, needles for fingers, and a rope around its neck looks back at the former vagrant._

"_Kristy, what in the world are you supposed to be?"_

_Twirling in her ragged, black coat, his daughter proudly gloats to her father. "I'm a mad doctor! Spooky, huh?"_

"_Mad doctor, huh? For a second there, I thought you were a scarecrow or something."_

_Taking off the dead-leatherface mask, the big, green eyes of his daughter twists in confusion. "What makes you think this looks like a scarecrow? I'm not even filled with straw!"_

_Standing up, it's time to deflect the subject with something less heavy given the topic at hand. "Who knows? Enough of that though, you ready to scare some of the locals?"_

* * *

><p>March 28, 2011<p>

To hell with turn signals, there's a grade-A emergency going down in the backseat and Livewire just doesn't have the time to worry about some slowpoke driver hogging up the passing lane. "Get the hell out of the way!"  
>"What the fuck HAPPENED back there! Where the hell did those goddamn guys come from?!"<p>

Swerving T&P's rusted hunk of a sedan around a corner rather sharply, Livewire can only shout back at her hysterical, bleeding comrade in the back seat. "I don't fucking know, _okay_! Son of a bitch, you're bleeding all over the place. Can't you plug up that hole?!"

"I'M NOT A DOCTOR, LIVEWIRE!"

"NO SHIT, TP! Cover that bullet hole or you're not gonna make it to Cyborg alive!" Another harsh turn around a corner, another scream of pain cuts down her back. Surprisingly you can also add the painful groaning of a man with a cast limply belted into the passenger side. If the Captain was awake to see this, he'd surely be bitching things up, making things worse for the two criminals. "Where'd they get you?"

"My side, I think. They missed the stomach, thank God… Damn, what the fuck is that muscle called again?!"

"An oblique or something damn thing… Hold on, TP, we'll be there in a few more minutes!"

Given the fact Titans Tower rests atop a small island off the mainland, traveling via automobile is pretty much impossible. Only a few in the city, however, are aware that underneath the Tower lies stretches of cave formations carved out during an attack by Slade years ago. These series of caves happen to stretch from certain locations in the mainland, cutting under the Pacific Ocean, and finally ending under the famous landmark. While this could expose the Tower to a secret attack, the fact is this has also given the Titans an equally secret passageway by which to travel to Jump City. It's by an unwelcome coincidence that these tunnels will serve as Livewire and T&P's introduction to the Tower itself.

* * *

><p>At the request of Cyborg, the Titans have gathered at this underground entrance to meet the criminal duo. Against Nightwing's complaints about violated security, the fact remains that there's a bleeding woman in the backseat and one very wanted Illuminati agent in the passenger side.<p>

"Livewire called after they found Captain Boomerang. Looks like Bulletface didn't give up the Captain that easy."

Seeing the bloody form of T&P, his hero instincts presently override the urge to question their need to come to the Tower. "Raven, Cyborg, get these two up to the medical ward, we'll escort Captain Boomerang to the holding cells."

* * *

><p>"The bullet's lodged in your right oblique. It could've been a lot worse if they'd aimed a few inches to the side."<p>

Between breaths, T&P swats at the metal Titan, cursing his neutral voice. "Oh, great, wouldn't want it to hurt _even more_!"

"Fighting us isn't going to make the pain go away, T&P." Ignoring the pain and anger on the criminal's face, Raven places a hand on her shoulder to help calm the patient. "You're going to be alright but right now you need to calm down."

Her left hand on the empath's own ashen one, T&P grits her teeth and stares deeply into purple orbs. "Now's not the best time to lie to me. You better be telling the truth."

Now comes the hard part, removing said bullet from the wound. "Alright, I'm about to go in and remove the slug from your oblique. Raven, once I pull out the round, get ready to patch her up."

Although mystic energies can help block the bodily fluids, it doesn't hurt to be prepared with some rubber gloves. Glancing over at Garfield, Raven reminds her friend of the obvious. "This isn't our first time working with surgery, Cyborg. Ready when you are."

"Nice of everyone to be so _cool and collected_!"

The sight of Garfield on the other bed notwithstanding, Livewire can safely say the situation in this room's taxing enough without having to hear T&P's sarcasm. "Shame we couldn't pump you full of happy drugs right now, you'd make this a _lot_ easier!"

"Piss off, sparky!"

"Let it go, Livewire." Producing a pincer to remove the lead projectile, Cyborg's enhanced vision allows him to make precise adjustments in order to aid his work. "Found the slug, looks like you got hit with a normal pistol. Anything bigger and you wouldn't have much of a side left. Ok Raven, on three."

Eyes clenched and hissing through teeth, T&P braces for the inevitable but not even willpower can halt this dreadful feeling.

"Three!"

* * *

><p>Several hours and quite a few pots of coffee later, the Titans along with Livewire gather in the Tower's living room. It's long past due for some answers and Nightwing's patience has just run out. Bringing Captain Boomerang might benefit their campaign against Doctor Light but having two criminals who three months ago worked for Madame Rouge just doesn't sit well.<p>

"It's time you told us what you were doing with Captain Boomerang. Why was he with you and how did T&P get shot?"

"Jeez, six pairs of eyes and not a single one looks happy. Talk about _gratitude_."

Arms stiffly folded in his chest, Cyborg looks anything but grateful. "You and T&P found out where Captain Boomerang was, went in gung-ho, and got her shot up for your troubles. I didn't think even you'd be crazy enough to pull that off."  
>"Hey there's a difference between bein' <em>nuts<em> and being _crazy_. This little lady here _ain't_ crazy… fully."

Cracking her powerful knuckles, Wonder Girl makes a few steps forward in warning of their unwelcome guest. "I don't know what game you're playing, _sparky_, but we're not in the mood to _play_."

Sighing in frustration, Livewire mutters to herself in defiance. "Hard to see why Gar stuck around so long." Looking around at the group, the electric-blooded woman relents to their questions. "When Doctor Light posted that bounty on Gar's head, T&P and I hooked up with Gar's P.I. friends from North Jump. We figured if we couldn't chase down the Illuminati _directly_, we'd go after the lieutenants and their hitmen. We couldn't pin Firefly down, he's still out there, but we had some luck when it came to Captain Boomerang."

Nightwing chimes in finally to fill the gaps for his teammates. "Bulletface wasn't happy having most of his assets stolen by the Illuminati in December. I'm surprised he let him live this long. So I take it since the four of you couldn't capture Firefly, you'd go after an easier target?"

"T&P and I, Jake and Rebecca had enough with cartels as of late. We got in simple enough but then we ran into some trouble…"

"What kind of trouble?"

* * *

><p>Groggy from the sedatives, T&amp;P's eyes slowly open, looking up at the black ceiling of the medical bay. The pain from the wound still present in her side, the fact that most of the deep tissue had been healed by Raven makes the North Jump native infinitely happier she's not in Jump City Memorial. "What time…?" Peering over to her side, there's no clock on the wall or table to read off the time, only the faint sound of beeping machines and humming equipment.<p>

For the first time in weeks, T&P gets a sight of the man who's brought her close to death on more than one occasion over the past three months. While she can curse him for bringing such misfortune into her life, the fact is she's far better off at the moment than her. Unfortunately her rational mind's dulled by the sedatives and what comes out is less than perfect English. "Gar? You awake over there?" Still nothing, only the dull beeping of heart and brain scanners. "Gar! C'mon, you homewrecker, I _know_ you're sleeping." Surely if he _was_ sleeping, he'd wake up and retort about her insult thrown his way. "Oh, I see, you're _ignoring_ me."

Certainly against Cyborg's orders, T&P finds the coordination to swing her legs over the side of the bed, placing unsure feet down on the cool tile of the medical bay. Groaning at the rush of pain in her side, the medicine and psychic healing can only go so far, she doesn't relent in her new goal of trying to get through to him. One step at a time, a hand on her tender side, T&P finally stands beside her strange friend, unaccustomed at standing _taller_ than him. "If you're not going to _wake up_, I have some things I need to get off my chest… and no, you perv, I don't mean this hospital gown. I took a bullet just so the Black Jade could get this to you so pay attention, you owe me _that much_."

* * *

><p>"Ah well it's nice to see you Titans don't skimp on the old holdin' cells. Gotta say, next to what Bulletface Bryson had me sittin' in, a bed and a head might as well be a four star hotel."<p>

Late night hours are nothing for Nightwing, not when you've run the rooftops over Gotham with the Dark Knight himself. For now though, it's a Flash rogue that'll have to occupy his attention. "Be thankful it's not a cell down at County."

"Right, down there I wouldn't have time to enjoy these lovely accommodations." Rubbing at his shoulder however, it'll take time before he can fully utilize a bed, much less comfortably. "By the way, you have anything for the shoulder? Bryson wasn't too keen on stitching me up, much less throwing me a bandaid."

"Let's talk Illuminati first and then we can talk injuries."

"Don't say a way, Boomerang, he'll just withhold treatment like he's done my food."

Glancing over at the recently awoken Atomic Skull, Nightwing casually reminds his unwilling guests why he was Batman's sidekick. "Lie again Atomic Skull, we'll set _you_ up for the fall and let your pal here go free."

That idea doesn't sound too bad for the Central City native but business is business. "Thanks for the tease, Nightwing, but that won't be necessary."

"Boomerang!"

"Put a lid on it, Skull, you know the bloke's just tryin' to do his job. Can't fault a man for tryin' to make an honest pay, right?"

Glaring at the two criminals, Nightwing's having trouble telling who's the most troublesome: Captain Boomerang with his sarcasm or Atomic Skull's temperament. "For Illuminati lieutenants, you don't seem to share much camaraderie. First one who tells me where to find Doctor Light and his fan club gets a five minute head-start out of here."

Punching at the energy shield keeping him inside, Atomic Skull howls with anger. "Oh, nice in-joke there _bird boy_, did your boss teach that line?"

An opportunity's definitely to be had here. After all, it's not like Boomerang's been with Light _from the beginning_. "So you haven't even found out where Doctor Light and the others are hiding at? Gotta admit, I'm surprised it's taken you this long. Still, deal's a deal, right?"

This definitely isn't helping Atomic Skull's chance to leave this retched Tower. Snarling at the thought of this _human_ getting out after a couple hours just makes this criminal spit flames of disgust. "I always pegged you for a traitor, Boomerang! Doctor Light wouldn't let me rip your eyes out but I _knew_ you were in this for yourself!"

Gesturing to his colleague with his good arm, Boomerang jokes to the Titans leader. "You hear this bloke? You'd swear he sounded like that Chinese girl workin' for Bulletface, threatenin' my eyes and all."

* * *

><p>Late hours and careful secrecy's nothing to the Illuminati, quite the contrary now that news of Captain Boomerang's liberation has reached the leader's desk. Calling a late night meeting of the minds, it seems his chance to rid himself of the Titans, kill the Watchman, <em>and<em> rescue his lieutenants just might be within reach after all… in a single stroke no less.

"It would seem those two _dim-witted_ fools Livewire and T&P may have just given us the most appealing opportunity in weeks. Our plan to leak Captain Boomerang's location has paid off _brilliantly_. You see, with Captain Boomerang being handed over to the Titans, this places him right next to Atomic Skull… and down the hallway from the Watchman himself. Ladies and gentlemen, we are now in a position to kill three birds with _one_ stone. In four days we will attack that island with the full force of the Illuminati and finally rid ourselves of the so-called _hero_ menace. Once we dispose of the super-twerps, we can take back the offensive and rid ourselves of the Bulletface Gang, the Triads, _even Arthur Void_ _himself_. Ladies and gentlemen, continue bringing in the landing craft and, this time next week, I can assure you our future will be far _brighter_ than anything we could ever dream of."

* * *

><p>On the roof of Titans Tower, the end of a long day requires one final call before she can rest her tired eyes on her bed. Out of hearing and away from the cameras, Raven presses a finger to her ear to summon the Watchtower. "Raven to Watchtower, come in."<p>

"_Watchtower here."_

Eyebrow raised again, there's no more ignoring it, curiosity takes her by the hand. "_You're not Mr. Terrific._"

"_So you've noticed before."_

Gruff voice but she's gotten this far, might as well ask the question. "Alright then, who are you? I never hear you during the day shift."

"_Martians don't need to sleep quite as often as humans. Your report please."_

No more curiosity there, only an urge to double back and apologize. "Sorry, Martian Manhunter, I wasn't expecting…"

"_J'onn will do. Your report, Raven."_

"Earlier today Livewire and a local criminal T&P rescued Captain Boomerang from a Bulletface safehouse. He's been shot through the shoulder but the wound's days old; he's already been stitched up. According to Livewire, T&P was shot by Bulletface's bodyguard, a woman by the name of Daiyu."

"_There was a rumor that the Illuminati's been trying to locate Captain Boomerang. They may have used Livewire and T&P to extract him without getting their hands dirty."_

Good idea although how the League found out so soon, well… "Something doesn't make sense about all of this, J'onn: Why go through the trouble of finding where he is just to have someone else spring him out but once free, not do anything to get him back? He's a lieutenant under Doctor Light, they wouldn't want him just going off with his liberator."

"_You have a good point there. It sounds like Doctor Light wanted the Captain's rescuer to deliver him somewhere for a purpose."_

It doesn't take two mind readers to tell where this one's going, although it's not a place she'd hoped to go this late at night. "Since Atomic Skull and Captain Boomerang are being held in the Tower, who's to say Doctor Light isn't planning an attack on the Titans directly? Think about it, J'onn, the Titans, Watchman, _and_ two of his lieutenants are in the _same building_."

"_Then we'll need to pull Atomic Skull and Captain Boomerang out of there before the Illuminati has a chance to recover their operatives."_

Biting her lip, this one's going to be delicate considering whom she's speaking with. "That's going to be difficult. Nightwing's not going to release them, even to the League. He's planning on using them for information; he's not going to give him them while he's looking for the Illuminati's headquarters."

* * *

><p>"<em>Daddy, are you alright?"<em>

_Blinking at the sight of two of his former coworkers walking by, Gar's attention had been diverted just a little bit. "Sure, Kristy, I'm fine. I just saw some of my old friends walking down the street."_

"_Ooo, who, who?"_

_Pointing down the street, Gar motions towards the one in gothic dress, the other with a blue punk rocker get up. "Those two. They're trouble though, the kind that gets daddy smacked upside the head by mommy."_

_Cupping her hands on her ears, she mockingly informs her father. "Oh I get it, you start trouble and mommy doesn't like when you talk with the other girls. I don't get adults, you're so weird…"_

_Oh yeah, she definitely got Rachel's sarcasm. "How about this house? The light's on."_

_Moving ahead just a little faster than he, Gar has to remind his daughter to keep her enthusiasm in check… he's not that young anymore._

_Pressing the doorbell, Kristy's bag is pressed forward, waiting for something good. "Trick or…"_

_Door swinging open, there's a curious sound of birds in the air and one very pissed off dead-skinned preacher before the father-daughter duo. "… I'm afraid I'm all of treats, imitator, so how about a little fear?" Sensing the danger, Gar wills himself to start transforming into an animal but it appears he's unable… "As for you, Watchman, you seem to have some trouble waking up from this little nightmare, no doubt a result of this little irritant!"_

"_DADDY!"_

_Reaching for the Scarecrow's neck, Gar's pushed aside by a gloved hand of needles, glowing with yellow fluids. Before he can get back to his feet, the master of fear gives him some ominous advice. "It's better to go back to sleep for this one, fathers shouldn't see the skeletons their daughters have in their closets!"_

_Unwillingly, uncontrollably, his eyes begin to close... but not before he hears the sound of Scarecrow cursing out the "imitator", his hand pulling back for the final injection…_

* * *

><p>AN2: Ok, to clear it up, the Illuminati's planning an attack (which by now's doubling as a rescue job), the Titans are getting wind that an attack's coming (when they don't know), T&P was given a message, violently, by Daiyu to pass to Gar, and in Gar's dream, Scarecrow's calling Gar's daughter an _imitator_? Good fuckity hell, my mind's going all twisted on me.  
>Again, sorry for the delay, it's been a bitch with that flu. I wanted to update around New Year's but I couldn't create anything, I felt mentally sterile and I HATE that feeling.<p>

Trivia:  
>- In a way, the drive with LivewireT&P is a spiritual shout-out to Resevoir Dogs  
>- The tunnels again referenced from Season 2<br>- I imagine, based on her healing abilities, that Raven's magics could heal wounds a lot faster (and thus negate long-term PT regarding, say, bullet wounds)  
>- I believe this is the first time I've ever (publically) acknowledged Martian Manhunter in this series. J'onn was in another chapter on the comm, I just wanted to make it known.<p>

Scarecrow, by far, has become the perfect anti-villain in this series. He's cerebal, he's mysterious, and he's deliciously evil (not quite Void-level evil, but we're getting to that)


	32. Chapter 32

A/N: Ladies and gentlemen, I must apologize fully for the past year or so. I've had tremendous writer's block, so intense that it took forty drafts for the final two chapters of this story to finally come to life. In that time I finally found myself in a relationship (8 months as of last week) and have been quite busy catching up with her obsession of Doctor Who. I've been riding a fantasic high called Life, I'm not depressed anymore and things are truly looking up. I want you to know that through all of this, I have never stopped thinking of this story. Each day I tried to bury this story (three attempts to announce retiring it) just made Gar louder in my head... and now that my girlfriend knows and is supportive of this story, I can finally get back to doing what I enjoy: Writing for everyone. And sorry if this chapter feels immensely frantic, it comes off like that in the context the entire chapter happens in the space of thirty minutes.

**Redux 3: There Goes My Hero**

"I Feel Fear for the Last Time…"

Chapter Nine:

_Who am I under all the layers? When you peel away the coats, the glasses, the weapons, the skin, what remains? Am I a monster like some have said, just another killer hiding behind the mask of righteousness? Am I a hero disguised as a lone wolf? Have I truly become all that I'm worth? Once upon a time a wise woman warned me it's not a sin to have the darkness inside me, it's the choice whether or not to use that darkness that determines if I'm a man or a monster. I promise you one thing, if I make it out of this place, that monster will be put to work, it's been hiding for too long._

* * *

><p>"Of all the things I've felt during my time as a businessman, there's an oddly giddy feeling I have just before the times change. It's like going back in time to just before the crash of the stock market, knowing it will happen, just to see it all unfold."<p>

It's strange enough that the expansive living room happens to be on the darker side, it's even stranger to hear Arthur Void speak in such passionate tones. Of course for the scarred Madame Rouge, this sight is easily brushed aside with a sarcastic quip. "_Giddy? _Did you just use that word?"

Pacing back and forth on his expensive red carpet, Void nods quickly with his hands clapping together as the neurons in his mind fire. "What's wrong with _that_? Even _I_ get to be excited, Rouge. Don't be such a downer."

Still looking cynical and, frankly, tired, she can retort about his mood later. "It is four in the morning; I believe I have a full right to be _downer_. Why have you summoned me here at such an ungodly hour?"

Sitting on the couch, Void leans in at Rouge to ask her a question on his mind. "Do you play Sudoku, Rouge?"

"Not particularly."

"You have to figure out the pattern of numbers without knowing where all the numbers are at one point. It's a game of order and control _without_ knowing where or what fits into which pieces."

Stifling a yawn, she rolls her swollen eyes. "And _this_ is some sort of metaphor for…?"

Reaching onto the table for his laptop, he opens the device and starts to wait for the screen to warm. "The game can be a challenge _until_ you figure out a key number in a key spot, then everything just falls into place. It's like a dam breaking; the numbers just hit you all at once until it makes one great design."

"_Fascinating_, I should try it sometime."

Ignoring the sarcasm, Void opens the programs on the screen for her to see. "You should, it's amazing what happens when you apply it to life."

Scanning the windows for something unknown, she muses a minute for what he wants her to see. It appears to be nothing short of a security camera, nothing out of the blue. "What is it I am supposed to see?"

"Let's just say when we get the word from our sources; this place will be the number which breaks the back of the troublesome puzzle."

* * *

><p>Without even the benefit of a morning sunrise, Doctor Light and Firefly stand by the ocean-side docks of Jump City, looking towards the glowing structure known as Titans Tower. A cigar on the lips of the insane leader of the Illuminati, Firefly's flamethrower keeps them warm against the early morning chill.<p>

"Think they have a clue?" Firefly's musing comes as something of a joke for Light, prompting the firebug to continue. "Then again, if they had a clue, they wouldn't let us get so close, would they?"

"If I were the Titans, I wouldn't doubt we'd attack at some point but _not_ this early. No, I'd be in my bed as well, trying to keep warm in this blasted cold."

"Let them sleep, it'll be the last night they ever do."

Glancing with a sly grin at his lieutenant, Doctor Light offers a hand to shake the pyro's hand. "And it will all be through our efforts. It's just a shame those two fools couldn't be here to witness our glorious assault."

Shaking his boss's hand, Firefly even cracks a small laugh at that one. "We'll have to make sure they work off the shame of being _rescued_ after this is all said and done."

Taking one last look at the tower with a pair of binoculars, Light remarks with the cigar on his lips "We'll let them start by tracking down the child of Antoine Desade and her hired hitman, they're still a threat to our conflict with Void's coalition."

"Small fries next to his forces."

Looking at his wrist, it appears the time has come for destiny to shine upon him. "Four-forty, twenty minutes until the charges go off. Time to go, Firefly."

"Just hope Black Myst gets in there without too much trouble."

"You and me both. Get to your boat, Firefly, it's time we turn that wretched Tower into a brilliant fireball that'll light up the morning for _all _of Jump City to see."

Unseen by the two criminals, a figure of red and black stares through powerful optics as they depart for their assignments. Red X senses the changing tide has come and now destiny will take a new course. Pressing his communicator ON, the enigmatic criminal calls to a voice on the other end. "This is Red X, Doctor Light and Firefly are moving towards the ships. The attack should start somewhere around five."

"_Continue to monitor until they're underway then report to the rendezvous. You have a future, Red X, we can't afford to lose you so soon in the war."_

"Roger, signing off." Standing up on the rooftop he'd been perched on, the shadow merely takes one last look at the Tower before turning his back. "Alright, Titans, let's see if you're ready for a _real_ battle. Good luck, you're going to need it."

* * *

><p>Standing at the side of a large, black SUV, the city's largest gun runner holds a stanrdard M4 carbine against his shoulder and a cigarette in his left hand. The bullet wound on his face doesn't minimize the fact that he's clearly anxious for <em>something<em> to begin. Then again, considering the other fifteen SUVs, it doesn't appear he's going in alone. Snapping his dreaming is the sound of his phone's ringtone, prompting him to flick away his cigarette and click on his smartphone. "Bryson speaking."

"_I'm ready to begin whenever you give me the word."_

Stomping out the lit tobacco stick, Bulletface gives one last piece of advice to his trusted hitwoman. "Daiyu, things are going to move _real_ quick today. Don't fall behind."

"_The guards will be taken out as promised, Bryson. Do not fail with your reinforcements."_

The scarring on his face doesn't help the awkward smile attempting to etch on his face, nonetheless he attempts to ease her nerves. "Just looking out for my number one woman. I have confidence in you, always have."

"_Thank you, Bryson, I will not disappoint."_

Ending the call, Bulletface begins to rouse his men with a thunderous yell. "Alright, kids, let's get this convoy on the move. We hit the vaults two minutes after five. A minute late and I'll execute the man responsible!"

* * *

><p>Another long night on the job has forced Nightwing to retire at the ripe time of three in the morning. Unfortunately for the leader of the Titans, his long-awaited sleep is bitterly cut into nap-length by the sound of his own phone coming to life. Moaning at the late hour, he begrudgingly arises from his bed to answer the annoying device. "This better be <em>real<em> important to wake me at this hour."

"_Oh I'm terribly sorry if I woke you out of your peaceful slumber_._"_

No mistaking that sarcastic, cryptic voice on the other end. It's the voice that haunted his nightmares since his arrival in the city so many years ago, the voice of a man capable of great cunning and greater evil. "Slade."

"_I'd love to chat, Boy Wonder, but I'm afraid you don't have the time."_

Already moving for this black and blue singlet, Nightwing gnashes his teeth at what's to come. "Why? Planning some nefarious attack I need to thwart? It won't work whatever it is."

"_I'm not the one running this attack, that honor happens to be Doctor Light's. In fact, he should be knocking on your door any minute now."_

Before Nightwing can even hit the emergency alarm on the wall of his room, the explosion rocketing from the base of the Tower throws him to the floor. The phone line dead, all that's left is to summon the Titans to arms.

* * *

><p>Nearly at the shore of the Tower, Light gets the word from the tunnel team that the attack has begun. Stepping forward on the bow of the ship like Washington crossing the Delaware, Light thrusts out his hand and proclaims to the advancing fleet of ships via radio. "This is it, everyone! The die is cast! Let's show the world the burning <em>light<em> of our greatness!"

In the hollowed out underbelly of Titans Island, ground forces lead by Black Myst and several other masks begin to fan out and secure the structure's foundation. Black Myst in particular leads the forces, calling out to her men to hold the line while the invasion starts. While alarm claxons scream out across the building, it's the sound of boats hitting the shore that reaches her sensitive ears. "The fleet has come in. Everyone, you know what to do! Keep the tunnel secure, no one gets in or out!" Raising her arms, her body becomes a wispy cloud of black mist, snaking and floating upward towards the shaft that will lead her into the Tower proper.

* * *

><p>"Nightwing!"<p>

Rushing into the common room followed by Raven and Livewire, Cyborg's call is split by another violent shake of the tower. Another explosive, this time again in the tower's basement brings both contempt and rage from the Titan leader. "The Illuminati picked the perfect time to attack, didn't they?"

"We have enemies in the basement moving through the tunnel and landing craft dropping men onto the water's edge." Reading the screen at the front of the room, Raven points out the enemy's plan in earnest. "They're cutting us off from leaving the Tower before they push into the building."

"Let's not give them a chance." Turning to his metal friend, Nightwing asks of him for the plan to set in motion. "Do you have time to lock down the entire building?"

"It'll take about two minutes, enough for us to get outside and start taking the fight to Doctor Light's goons. The Tower will be closed to everyone except Raven and Livewire, it should keep everyone else out including the Illuminati."

Nodding bitterly, Nightwing can only hope that buys enough time for them to keep the Illuminati away from Gar in the medical bay. "Do it, we have to make sure they don't get to Gar. Everyone else, this is it, this is what we've feared but we _can_ beat them. Now get out there and let's make them pay for invading _our_ home!"

* * *

><p>Standing on the rocky coast of the Island, Light takes a moment to savor the air before turning to the mass of stone and brawn behind him. "Cinderblock, if you'll make an entrance for everyone? <em>Don't<em> be gentle."

Roaring in delight, Cinderblock indeed makes for the front door, prepping his concrete hands for destruction.

"Not if we can help it!" The voice of anger belonging to one Wonder Girl silences that roar for a moment. Crushing his fist into the creature's abdomen, she follows through with a punch that sends him flying by a couple dozen feet.

"Titans, no one's dying today, understand?!" Nightwing's words seem more like a promise than desperation, one that illicit a laugh from Doctor Light and his crew. "Titans, GO!"

* * *

><p>The chain of communication starts from Red X, filtering in through X's employer, into the phone of Arthur Void, and finally ending at the speaker of one Bulletface Bryson. Within the span of thirty seconds, the stand-by Void's forces were standing at is replaced with the thundering footsteps of an army's advance into the heart of the unprepared foe. Standing at the foreground of fifty Xaviers and two hundred Bulletface troops, Bulletface Bryson orders his men to take from the enemy that which was stolen from them a scant four months prior.<p>

Before the call for help can reach the Illuminati on Titans Island, the force guarding the HQ runs into a different threat. Appearing from the shadows comes Daiyu, hairpins thrown into the necks and eyes of the hired goons outside the door leading inside. For the few who aren't immediately taken out by the assassins sneak attack, knives thrown by a mystery wingman take down the remaining guard.

"We must move quickly before they relay the message to Light."

* * *

><p>For all their bad luck as of late, the sound of gunfire, explosions, and earthquaking feels like a blessing to the two Illuminati lieutenants held up in their prison cells. As Atomic Skull tries to wake from his slumber, he can't help but notice Captain Boomerang is busy smoothing out the wrinkles on his coat sleeve. "Hey, what's going on out there? I didn't think anyone would be awake at this hour."<p>

Confident and appearing calm in the moment, Captain Boomerang offers a smile to his captive brethren. "Might want to get up and look your best, Skull, sounds like the entire Illuminati came calling just for us. I wouldn't be surprised if we'll have ourselves a guest in the next few minutes."

"Unreal, I didn't think he'd bring the _whole_ force."

Putting on his blue cap upon his balding head, the Aussie criminal jokes at their luck. "They'll rib us for this for awhile, having to break us out using the whole team."

Cracking his back into place, Atomic Skull finishes by cracking his knuckles. "I'll take it, anything's better than the fuel they've been feeding me."

* * *

><p>Evading bullets fired by the recently-freed criminal Rampage, Cyborg responds by knocking the gun-crazy villain down with a sonic cannon shot. "Nightwing! The Tower lockdown's complete! All the doors leading to the main corridors are locked tight!"<p>

Dodging incoming fire himself, Nightwing flashes back a thumbs up before making off for another target.

Raven, ducking and dodging incoming beams fired from an electric villain, hovers for a moment before spotting Doctor Light. With her eyes glowing and fists balling, it's time for her to show up that wretched man once and for all for what he's done to them all. "Light, you're _mine_!"

Raising his one palm to Raven to form an energy shield, he uses his other hand to call out to his ace in the hole. "Myst, are you in position?"

Inside the Tower's lockdown zone, Myst calls back to her boss in the affirmative. "The team I came with didn't make it but I'm safely inside. Time to end the Watchman's nightmare, permanently."

* * *

><p>It feels like his whole world's shaking, the room keeps moving every so often like it's being jerked by something. Hell, if the beeping noises would stop, he'd be able to tell just what the hell's making that noise. Green eyes desperately try to peer up at the drop ceiling, trying to make sense of the situation. Against the fatigue in his body and the chaos of combat outside, one single voice keeps ringing in his ear. "GET UP!"<p>

Sliding his feet off the bed, he starts to unplug the monitors on his body, unsure why they were there in the first place but thankfully it ends the damn machines from bothering him with the nonstop beeping. Touching his face, the feeling of longer facial hair and a thick mane on his head force him to stop for just a moment. Dry and cracking, the first words out of his throat in nearly a month sound more like a croak than a human's. "What's going on? Why am I in the hospital?"

Standing like a wraith in the corner of the room, Scarecrow appears in his leatherface visage, whistling to the confused vigilante. "Perhaps _I_ can be of some assistance?"

His confused eyes seem to fill with a coldness best fit for an arctic morning than a human's at this point. "_YOU!_ What have you done to Kristine?! TELL ME!"

Reaching out with a pale hand, Scarecrow offers the homeless hero a warning. "I was able to bring you to consciousness when you realized the similarity of your supposed daughter and my own. For the moment, however, you have a crisis you're ignoring."

Looking around the room, it suddenly dawns on him like an epiphany from on high. "My God, this place is under attack, isn't it? Kristine, Rachel, what's happening to them?"

"I believe you mean _Raven_ and your friends. They're in danger."

Standing up too fast and almost loosing his balance, Gar holds himself upright with the bed while glaring at the vision of Scarecrow. "I meant _Rachel_ and _Kristine_! What have you DONE to them?!"

Eyes flaring white like fire and teeth bite down on the rotting flesh of his mask. "WAKE UP! The Tower is under attack and you believe yourself still to be the father and husband of imaginary humans! There's a creature of hateful mist approaching and if you don't prepare yourself, you and your beloved _Rachel_ will be dead!"

Snarling, he gingerly steps over to the second bed where his coat and weapons are resting. Uncaring who cleaned his gun or washed his coat, the vigilante takes to putting on his clothes before setting the green glasses down upon the brim of his nose. "Damned ghost, you _will_ tell me what you've done to them _after_ I dispose of the _mist_ you claim is coming! Just because I _retired_ doesn't mean I don't got it, just you _watch_!"

Stepping out of the hallway, past the vanishing ghost, the green man in black takes hold of the shotgun and looks down both ways through the sight of his barrel. "Some kind of _hospital_, not like one I've ever been at. No matter, whatever's coming has to go through _me_ and I won't let them get to the girls."

* * *

><p>High above the surface of the Earth, far away from the battle engulfing Titans Tower floats the massive Watchtower. Not many people staff the Tower this time of night, most are either sleeping down below on the planet or on reserve duty. For one certain founding member, his red eyes scan the incoming video appearing from Jump City, looking for the words to speak to the voice on the two-way receiver. "It would seem Doctor Light has advanced on Titans Tower with a large force. I don't believe the Titans can hold out for very long against that many, especially given the number of supervillains working for the Illuminati."<p>

"_The League will only assist them if Nightwing gives his permission."_

"But don't you think its dangerous leaving them alone at this moment. He used to be your protégé but even Nightwing has his limits."

"_Unless he calls us for assistance, I intend to honor his wish to remain independent of the League."_

Narrowing his eyes into a grimace, the Martian Manhunter knows full well what that means for the Titans. "They'll be torn to shreds unless he relents; a rather shrewd lesson in humility I imagine."

"_If we can't get through to Nightwing, try Raven. She's a member of his inner circle; she should be able to sway him."_

Looking up at the screen once more, Martian Manhunter reaches for the console which will call in the request. He hesitates a moment as the notion sets in regarding Raven. "Doing this will expose her involvement with the League. If he refuses, we'll be throwing away one of our own teammates."

"_Then we'll have to hope she can sway him before the League has to gone in the hard way. Keep me posted."_

* * *

><p>AN2: Again, sorry if this isn't up to par just yet. The intention is there and the true "fight" will be in the next and final chapter of Redux 3. Gar's awakening is a mixed bag (he still feels as though in the dream world but he's "awake"), the Illuminati is both on the attack and under attack. The League looks ready to support the Titans but will Nightwing be receptive? Thank you again anyone who keeps up with this saga, it's both a grateful curse and an odyssey that I won't soon forget anytime soon.

Trivia:  
>- "The Die is Cast" as quoted by Julius Caesar while crossing the Rubicon.<br>- The Xavier robot is back and in greater numbers. Cybermen perhaps?

Rhetorical:  
>Damn it feels great to write again!<p> 


	33. Chapter 33

A/N: Sorry for the wait again, still getting into the hang of this. Big update. Not exactly the curve you'll be expecting but while at work a couple of days ago, I realized where the story's going and why I wasn't getting there (writer's block sucks.) Some shoutouts to some long-time friends of the story so I hope you enjoy. It gets really ramped up half-way through but right now here's the finale of "I Feel Fear for the Last Time..."

**Redux 3: There Goes My Hero**

"I Feel Fear for the Last Time…"

Chapter Ten:

"You see, in Sudoku, there's nine sections of nine. Usually each section has at least one number already exposed; this is the start of the clue."

While Void starts pacing about the darkened room, Madame Rouge's attention can't seem to take itself away from the replay footage of the vault raid. The way the Xavier machines move on the attack is nothing less than incredible, their ability to spread out and attack as opposed to just standing there like sheep speaks volumes of the designer's genius. "Are you _still_ going on about that silly game? It is only a puzzle, Void, not a philosophy."

"Chess is _only a game_, Rouge, and the world respects it as an instrument of strategy." Snapping his fingers as his thought returns, he turns on a dime and paces the other direction. "Without knowing it, you can control the entire game by knowing the key to one section. If one knows the key on the top left, the bottom right must conform or else the game is thrown off. It's not like chess where you're limited to one set of movement. In a game of numbers, you can control the entire plan because everything _must_ conform; there is no room for change."

Looking up from her screen, the scarred villain quirks her tired eyebrow skyward, surmising his train of thought. "By hitting the Illuminati's bank account, you plan to hit their power structure?"

"Exactly! By damaging their finances, their loyalty becomes _shit_. You dictate a company through its earnings potential; you can control the flow of the market by even _suggesting_ something _might_ not reach its profit margin. Even if the Illuminati succeeded in removing the Titans, which I've already predicted is _impossible_, the loss of financial support will cripple them _with or without_ a victory." Sitting down to lean in towards the supervillain, Void can barely contain himself at the thoughts bubbling up in his mind. "Can't you understand, Rouge? The key to controlling these so-called "super-criminals" isn't to match them fist for fist, it's to control the one thing that keeps them motivated: Control their greed. If we possess the resources, we possess their _loyalty_."

Impressed but wise to the game of high-level villainy, she needs to know the answer to the most pressing question in her mind. "And what of those who do not covet wealth or power? There _are_ variables out there that cannot be bartered with. People like the Watchman cannot be controlled through greed."

"That which cannot be cowed through greed can always be humbled through weakness."

As that statement closes, the sound of Void's cellphone snatches his mind away from his speech and onto the matter of one particular underling named Bulletface. "Hello Bryson, I trust you're in good health and good financial security?"

"_The Xaviers pushed back the few guards they kept behind. There's a lot of cash here as well as a large stockpile of jewels. There's no way to guess how much they've stored here but most of what they've seized from us on Christmas should be here."_

"Music to my ears, Bryson. What about Daiyu, is she on schedule?"

"_Doctor Light committed most of his force to attacking Titans Tower, she says security at their home shouldn't be too difficult. Giving her a wingman certainly helps things along."_

Chuckling to himself, Void needs to remind Bulletface that some things aren't what they seem. "He's not ordinary _wingman_, Bryson; he's a very important key to the success of the future."

"_So I've heard, shame you haven't said who this someone happens to be."_

"Patience, time will reward you. Keep me informed."

* * *

><p>At first the battle had been something out of a war novel, all brawl and little tactic. While the bodies and power bolts were flying, it seems the Illuminati have been plotting the downfall of the Titans. To this end, Doctor Light has ensured his attacking forces continued to widen the gap between teams of the Titans. While the defending heroes do their best, it would seem that the circles around each group appear to be growing tighter and tighter, driving wedges between them and a solid defense. In fact, given the distance, Doctor Light is more than willing to walk amongst each ring, dictating the battle as he enjoys the fruits of his labor. "Take your time" he calls out, safe in knowing the Tower is safe from outside interference. "Any choppers that come will be shot down from the landing craft, any would-be heroic reinforcement will take time to arrive. Wear them down before we commence with the <em>execution<em>."

It's hard to smell in the Tower's hallways, it feels like there's something blocking up his nostrils but he can't quite tell what it is. There's the persistent smell of antiseptic, maybe from his time in the bed or may from something else, anything could be why. With each footstep the vagrant takes through the halls, his trusty shotgun isn't pointed away from anything other than forward, waiting for something or someone to make contact with. Of course there's the question as to why the ground keeps shaking or the walls thundering with impacts but this is nothing compared to the nagging sense of _familiarity_ with this place.

* * *

><p>At the end of one hallway, his instincts point him in the direction of a pair of doors which spread apart as he nears. What awaits inside aren't the tools and décor of a hospital but rather the plush, inviting evidences of a living room and kitchenette. "Must be for the doctors to stay in between their shifts. Think they could've made it ritzier?"<p>

Stepping onto the red rug leading to the giant TV, Gar stops for a moment and stares up at the black screen, tilting his head to the side at the nagging thoughts in his mind. "They must've spent a _fortune_ on a screen this big." Slinging his gun over his shoulder, Gar moves for the controller to turn on the device. "No sense leaving the big thing off, maybe I can find out what's going on outside."

Before his fingers can adjust the power button on, the sound of the doors opening and closing force instincts to turn away from the TV to bring the shotgun back to its initial aiming position. When presented with the sight of, well, nothing, his mind reaches out to look for any would-be intruders. "Someone's there, don't think I can't _feel_ it."

"_Are you the one named Watchman?"_

No sign of origin from the voice, the sound simply bounces off the high walls and ceiling. "Who's there?!"

"_Are you the Watchman or not?"_

Cocking the gun once, Gar's eyes narrow sharply up and around the room. "Once, a long time ago, but I'm retired now. Show yourself!"

"_You haven't learned the truth yet, have you?"_

Teeth gnashing, finger growing itchy, Gar spits back into the emptiness of the room. "You'll have to be more specific, I've learned a lot of _truths_ these past years."

Starting to form a vortex around the center of the room, a figure of black smoke and vapor starts to take shape. Far taller than a human, it seems more like a spinning tornado than a human being. _"You are awake but not awake. You are cognitive but not conscious. You are the Watchman and yet not the real one."_

The slug already chambered into his gun, Gar unloads two rounds into the swirling mass of blackness. While neither finds its mark, the shots do have the benefit of jarring his mind back to the present problem. "Are you some sort of wraith, some criminal I fought in my youth? Whatever it is you want, leave me in peace!"

This mist begins to take form, wrapping itself tight into the object of a woman of Gar's age but lesser height. Long, flowing raven hair of matching eyes, she stands wearing only the outline of a sleeveless, flowing dress painted black as the night. Standing in the center of the room with her wrists out and up, Black Myst reveals her true nature of the Watchman. "I _am_ a wraith but I am not of your imagined past."

Gun stilled aimed at her head, Watchman stares down the iron sight at her coal-shaded almond eyes. "I'm not _imagining_ anything, wraith, I'm alive AND awake. Now tell me what you _want_!"

Taking a step towards Gar, she turns a hand away almost as though reaching out to him for his own hand. "Do you _remember_ who I am? There was a time you worked alongside my past employer but it seems you forget who I am."

"A nightmare perhaps, some sort of dream I've had a long time ago. One I'd rather not go back to if I can avoid it."

Hair flowing about her face, the misty vision of a woman presses her charred lips together before speaking to the wayward hero. "I am the Black Myst, a former criminal for hire working for Madame Rouge. Presently I work for Doctor Light of the Illuminati."

Pressing his gun forward in anger, Gar's bark of hate slashes through the air swirling about her. "Doctor Light is _dead_. That monster was _executed_ for that car bomb in Downtown Jump City. That was _years_ ago, there's no way he can still exist!"

Stepping towards him through the air, Black Myst reaches still for the Watchman. "He exists in _our_ world but not in the one you've been trapped in. Have you not rid yourself of the Black Mercy strain?"

His anger stopping for only a moment, he breathes the words he never thought possible on his lips. "Black… Mercy…?"

Swirling her body into that of an alien with tentacles and teeth centered on the body, she begins to tell him the tale he feared to hear. "You were infected with a strain of Black Mercy, a creature capable of bringing your dreams to life in a form of an illusion. You have spent weeks under its sway, believing yourself to be a different _you_. This world you believe to inhabit is _false_; you are neither retired nor old. You are a man who bares the name Watchman, who fights Doctor Light even as we speak, and who is the city's best hope of bringing the city out of darkness."

Staggering back, he falls rather sharply onto the carpeted floor, using his gun to ward off the mist. "No, I don't _believe_ this. You're _lying_, I AM retired. I gave up that life when I met Rachel, I have a DAUGHTER! CAN'T YOU UNDERSTAND THAT, I AM NOT THE WATCHMAN ANYMORE!"_  
><em>Her face formed once more in the mist, she dares him to test that thought. "If you don't believe me, take a  
>look at the security cameras looking outside. You will see the truth, Watchman."<p>

* * *

><p>Standing back to back like sisters of war, Livewire deflects incoming bullets fired by Rampage while T&amp;P uses her custom firearms to fire diversionary needles at the approaching Scorpio. Given a second chance at proving themselves after the fight with the Titans, both criminals seem hell-bent on getting back into their boss's favor. Cyborg's not much better off given that he has to contend with both Overload and Baby Doc, the former using his energy attack to weaken Cyborg while Baby Doc uses his bouncing ability to smack the metal Titan off his feet. And any attempts by Wonder Girl or Red Star to assist Cyborg are felled by large-scale impacts from Cinderblock and the powerhouse known as "The Hammer."<p>

"Nightwing, this isn't looking too good."  
>Through his own gnashed teeth, Nightwing does his best to avoid incoming swipes from a female humanpanther hybrid, using his weapons to stun and gain distance whenever he can. "We _hold them_ here. Keep trying to push them back so we can regroup. Titans East won't be here for some time, we need to hold out until then."

"Easier said than done." Using her psychic energy, Raven lifts sections of rocks into the air to throw at a mutant criminal known as "SharkMan", a man with a human body and a hammerhead for a head. While he dodges some of the rocks, one large boulder smacks him square in the nose, flipping him backward in mid-run. "Any chance we could get some _additional_ help?"

"Like who? If we had teleportation built into the Tower, we could call the entire Titans to help defend the Tower."

Looking over her shoulder but a moment, Raven knows the remark is worth a shot. "The only group that has a teleporter happens to be…"

"We still have a chance. Titans, don't let up, we _will_ beat them."

* * *

><p>Looking at the screen in the living room, Gar watches as the Titans valiantly attempt to hold back the growing tide that is the Illuminati. While his beard and long hair might hide some of the numbness spreading across his face, his glasses are pulled off to reveal glistening green eyes. Staring into the screen, he asks the wispy apparition if what he thinks happens to be fact. "I'm <em>not<em> married, am I?"

"No."

Nodding at the screen, Gar asks again. "_She's_ not my wife?"

"No."

Pointing at the members in sequence, the Watchman proposes "They are… or _were_… my teammates?"

"Yes."

Slumping his head as the memories start to file into his mind, Gar finally asks the last question. "How long have I been in that dream world?"

"Sixteen days. Today's April first, 2011."

Sighing at both the date and the length of time, Gar painfully remarks to himself in jest. "I've been in a dream for over two weeks…married, daughter… an entire lifetime in two weeks… and the day I finally wake up happens to be April Fool's Day… What are the odds of _that_?" Eventually stepping back up to his full height, the fight behind him takes a backseat as he observes the woman in full. "You're the Black Myst T&P told me about. She said you were into some violent shit but I never thought you were a full-blown wraith."

Nodding, she extends her hands outward to evidence her own abilities. "I take the form of a human in order to blend in although I'm quite capable of using the shadows and air. It's aided me in getting close to you even as the Tower's in lockdown."

Heartbroken and numb, Gar's shoulders drop as he meets her eye for eye. "Then this is my time, isn't it? I can't complain, it's not like I haven't already died before. If it's my time, it's my time."

Surprised, she inches closer to him. "You seek your death?"

"You're Illuminati… You can't be here to do anything _but_ kill me. I'm so sore right now I don't think I can transform and right now you have me cornered. So do me a favor, Black Myst: If you're going to kill me, make it fast. Right now I don't think I can handle being awake another day."

Finally reaching Gar, she takes both of his cheeks into her chilly hands. Making sure he can see her, she calmly tells him what she's come to do. "I'm _not_ here to kill you, despite what Doctor Light believes. I'm here to _help_ you."

* * *

><p>The longest pause is often filled with, perhaps, the shortest of noises. In Gar's case, it's the simple sound of a "…wha?" that comes through his throat. "<em>You're<em> here to help_ me_?"

Looking into his eyes, she wonders just how deep the green orbs go but for now there's business. "I am. Before I worked with Madame Rouge, I was made a promise by a woman who could set free my brother back in Gotham." Confused but, well, intrigued, Gar urges her to continue. "I was promised that if I succeeded in my mission, my brother would be released from prison."

"And who would that be and what does he have to do with me?"

Her wispy eyebrow rising, she asks a question that sends chills up Gar's spine. "You don't know?"

"YDK, You Don't Know. _He's_ your brother?"

Agreeing in the affirmative, Black Myst asks of the Watchman. "He is. With your help, perhaps I could arrange my employer to set him free. Would you be willing to help?"

Grateful at this turn of events, Gar shakes his head in approval several times. "Of course, he was the one guy in Blackgate I could trust. The only problem is your employer might not be willing to let him go just like that. It depends on who that person is."

"Have you ever heard of an Amanda Waller?"

* * *

><p>Several thousand miles away in a secure location outside of Washington, Amanda Waller's eyes scan the video screens showing scans of Titans Island. With her staff on hand to describe the information, it appears to her that the battle isn't going to end well. That is, of course, until a call she had hoped for but wasn't expecting decided to interrupt the situation. "Ms. Waller, we're going a call from Titans Island. It's on videoscreen."<p>

"Put it through, the Titans must be desperate if they're calling _us_ for support."

It takes a moment for the connection to become established but once it does, Amanda Waller's serious gaze turns to stunned amazement as Black Myst and the Watchman stare back. "Good morning Ms. Waller, we have catching up to do."

"Glad to see you're awake again, Watchman. I presume Black Myst informed you of her mission?"

Turning to glance at Black Myst a second, Gar returns to the screen to warn her. "This line needs to become private, _fast_. We don't have a lot of time."

* * *

><p>"The Titans are becoming more and more separated as the battle continues. It's only a matter of time before they collapse. Batman, please reconsider your decision and allow us to send relief forces."<p>

Batman does look back at the screen but looks less agitated than their last contact. _"Nightwing won't put his team in too much danger before he makes the call. J'onn, trust me, we'll move in but only when he needs it. We can't…"_

"Batman, stand by, we have a message from Earth coming in on priority channel."

On the Watchtower screens appears the dual image of Garfield Logan and Amanda Waller, both looking rather irritable and, in Gar's case, not in the mood for the usual pleasantries. _"Watchtower, this is the Watchman on Titans Island. You better have a DAMNED good reason for your absence."_

"Watchman, I'm relieved to see you've returned to normal. The Justice League is preparing to assist the Titans but we need Nightwing's approval as per the pact between the League and the _Titans."_

"_Bullshit! You mean Nightwing's pact with Batman. The League would never put innocent people at risk over some fucking squabble between two non-name Leaguers. But because both of the parties involve Batman, the League stands by, cowering behind some handshake agreement!"_

The argument in his voice sounds less credible given his agreement with Gar in principle. "The League will move only when given the approval of Nightwing. Until then, we must…"

Waller's turn to negotiate arrives when she declares her intention to join in the battle. _"Then the League would have no trouble allowing us to use your teleporter technology. Washington has several costumed heroes who are waiting in standby to assist the Titans. We need your technology to transport them there. If the League won't assist their brethren, then the United States Government will step in."_

"_J'onn, the League could also teleport the other Titans stationed around the globe for support. The League keeps their hands clean while getting the support they need. There's not a lot of time, J'onn, you need to think fast."_

Batman's voice finally cuts into the three-way conversation, illiciting a snarl from Gar's lips. _"The League isn't a planetary taxi service you can just call up whenever you please. If you trust Nightwing, trust him to do the right thing and don't force him into something isn't prepared to do."_

Thrusting his face up into the camera so his face appears to take up the whole screen, Gar shouts into the mouthpiece so loud all the parties wince at the volume. _"As someone who's worked for the Doom Patrol, the Teen Titans, the Justice League, and for the U.S. Government, I'm fully-fucking qualified to tell you when the Titans need fucking help! Quit the fucking bitching between the two of you and call in that support! Waking up already cost me one dream family, DON'T TAKE AWAY MY REAL ONE!"_

Pausing a moment at hearing Gar's plea for family, J'onn can sympathize and eventually take action in this matter. "Attention, all members of the Justice League on standby. This is a Theta-level alert. Prepare for transport in three minutes. The Justice League will assist the Titans on Titans Island." Looking back to the screen, Batman's glare is contrasted against Amanda Waller's smug grin and Gar's proud smile. "Batman, as you know I have the authority to deploy our personnel to wherever they may be needed. I'm sorry if this breaks the deal between our two organizations but this isn't the time for debate. Watchman, we'll standby for transport but first we'll be sending in the other Titans and Amanda Waller's volunteers. Transport in two minutes."

Nodding one last time, Gar looks into the red eyes of the Martian Manhunter. For the first time in a long time, he can feel something of a gratitude to someone other than Question in the League, at least for this one moment. "Thank you J'onn, this won't be forgotten."

* * *

><p>Surrounded and shrinking, the Titans seem like empty shells of themselves against the numbers now stacking up against them. Doctor Light takes center stage again, looking down upon his prey and offering them a paltry attempt at mercy. "Titans, you are defeated! Pledge to serve the new order or <em>burn<em> in the _brilliance_ of our victory!"

"The Titans would _never_ serve you, Light. We'd rather _die_ than give in to you."

Smiling with a sense of pure malice, the master of illumination readies his troops for the slaughter. "Nightwing, your words, while heartfelt, are no longer relevant. Your deaths will light the fire of our destiny for years to come. So let the bloodletting begin! Bring me their heads!"

Before the massacre can be undertaken however, the sound of teleporter beams and incoming bodies stops the advance of the Illuminati. At first the number is small, a dozen or so, but soon others appear. The Titans East, Thunder and Lightning, Green Arrow, the Flash, Metamorpho appear followed by more and more League and Titans alike. Then, following the first few waves appear more, this time different than the others. One warrior-looking brute brandishes a mighty axe in hand, another woman wraps a brown trench coat about her body, three brothers stand together with shields and spears, and still a hulking teenager with eight arms to flex appear in tandem. What was originally a battle of 100 against eight has suddenly become a battle of one hundred facing eighty five.

Taken back by the sudden display of numbers, Doctor Light stammers at the revelation than his great plan may just fallen apart in less than five seconds. "This isn't _possible_. The League would _never_ deploy reinforcements, they just wouldn't break the _treaty_!"

Nightwing stands up, cracking his neck just a bit before looking about the suddenly frozen battlefield. "Maybe just this one time it'll be enough to finally break the Illuminati. Titans, Justice League… GO!"

"NO PRISONERS!" shots the three brothers as their armor joins their shields and spears in Phalanx position before charging an enemy group.

Hoisting his great Axe, the burly warrior takes aim at the equally burly Hammer, dashing towards him in a challenge of hand-held weapons.

A woman burning with inferno's heat tries to burn her fist through the woman in the brown trench coat only to find her falling through flesh. Turning back, her flames appear matched by the sight of herself staring back, the former human woman now an inferno all of her own.

While the battle had originally seemed to be more of an organized ring of conflict, this present field now seems more like a battlefield of old with fighters of all types scattered throughout the melee. Kid Flash and the Flash move from target to target, taking out those that were supposed to protect the boats. Green Arrow's perfect aim takes precision once more as one of his arrows punches into the face of Overload's chip. While Doctor Light and Firefly repel an attack from the eight-armed teenager, they find themselves starting to consider the futility of staying behind on an island of superheroes wanting to tear their group apart.

As quickly as the melee seemed to go from bad to worse, the sound of the door leading into the Tower blasting open startles several fighters in their step. Cold and shrieking, the Black Myst emerges into the world, wrapping her fingers around the throat of one Illuminati fighter. From the exit emerges Garfield Logan, free of his gun, coat, and glasses. For this battle he cracks his knuckles and scans the crowd for something in the distance. Alas his sharp eyes pick out the man in the white suit against the rising Eastern sun.

* * *

><p>Looking upward at Arthur Void, Madame Rouge finds the new development something of a foil to Void's unfolding plan. "It seems the League has sent help to Titans Island. They're turning the tide against the Illuminati."<p>

Finger on his lip, the cold CEO stares into the screen and ponders this change in fortune. "I didn't expect a Titans victory but the League's arrival can mean only one thing."

"An alliance between the League and the Titans."

Pointing at the screen, Void singles out various non-Titan, non-League members as proof of something worse. "These aren't known associates of either side. They must be new recruits of members of a third organization."

"No doubt recruits from a group who would benefit from the fall of the Illuminati."

Standing up, Void closes the laptop and looks to Madame Rouge. "We have some work to do; our enemies have decided to up the ante. Let's just hope Daiyu and our friend happens to have control of the base before they arrive."

* * *

><p>Walking through the battlefield, Gar has to stop time and again to punch or cast aside an Illuminati soldier or evade one of the superpowered ones. His eyes remain fixated on Doctor Light though; all his mind can comprehend at this moment is the face of his daughter and the love of his wife. Memories or not, this man <em>stole<em> the happiness he believed himself to have, he _took_ something precious he could never have back. "LIGHT!"

Snapping their eyes over at the voice, Firefly aims his flamethrower before Light orders him to stand down. "Sound the recall to base. Black Myst betrayed us; the Watchman's alive and awake. We failed here. Firefly, get them moving now, we don't have much time."

Still advancing, Gar prepares his claws. While his body screams at him not to, he can feel his bones beginning the process of changing and shifting. It's been two weeks since he's taken the form of something other than human and this time he'll be doing more than hiding as a fly or skulking around as a rat. "You WON'T hide from me, you coward! FACE ME!"

Bold and proud, Light declares at the hero from twenty feet out "Come and get me then, you pathetic little worm! I'M RIGHT HERE!" At about ten feet away, Punk Rocket appears in front of Gar and aims his guitar. Slamming down on the instrument, the waves of energy push back the Watchman enough to warrant him to drop to one knee. "THAT IS IF YOU CAN STAND UP!"

Glaring through the noise, the locks retaining back the dreaded nightmare begin to unseal, the power he exuded in Gotham, on the Farallon Islands, in that church in North Jump, all of it starts to surge forward.

Raven, sensing the change in energy, repels one of her attacks before turning towards the vengeful hero. Alas it's too late as Gar's eyes change from his normal green orbs into a solid glow of emerald light. Time feels slower for the hero as does the time it takes for his body to react. Leaning into the vibrating energy of the guitar, spinal plates of a Stegosaur begin to punch through the back of his coat with his face sheds into the form of a bear. Arms elongating into long, spiny limbs with clawed fingers, his lower spine sprouts the slender form of a lion's tail. And for the first time in the battle, it seems the winds have shifted from the West to a cyclone about the Island.

All sides retreat from the hideous chimera, especially the Illuminati and Doctor Light. Roaring in hateful overtones, Gar lurks forward, ignoring the guitar wail. Standing before Punk Rocket, the teeth of the bear come down upon the guitar, crushing it in his mighty jaws. Shaking in his boots, the terrified Punk Rocket looks into the depths of the creature's eyes and despairs as the beast replies with a growl in his throat. "Flies…" As on command, millions of flies arrive from the city, overtaking the crowd with the nonstop buzzing of the endless creatures. Gar continues once again. "Bees…" This time the endless hives move towards the Illuminati, leaving alone the defenders of the Island but inflicting their venomous rage upon the criminals. Stepping past Punk Rocket, Gar looks down towards Firefly and Doctor Light as they approach their landing craft. "Sea creatures…"

Below their feet the horrified criminals see crabs, lobsters; even fish appear up through the surf by their feet. No more time is wasted on this endeavor, the men and women of the Illuminati make for their ships and begin to evacuate. As the mass of flies, bees, and creatures continue to swarm, Gar looks out as Light and Firefly retreat. With a roar of malice, his bear-like head changes once more into a dragonesque visage complete with the fins of a fish, almost like the face of Gyrados of Pokemon fame. Leaning back, an energy stream of particles starts to form in its mouth.

Cyborg detects the rising particles and shouts out for the others to stop this mess. "If Gar fires that thing, it'll fire at the city. He'll kill anything that comes in contact with it!"

Flying in front of Gar, Raven extends her hands out into an energy shield. While it might not stop the charged attack, it'll do enough to blunt it. "Gar! Snap out of it! If you shoot at Doctor Light, you'll kill innocent people. I know you wouldn't risk killing him if it meant someone else had to suffer! Get control, fight it!"

Still the beam charges but there's something desperate in the roar in his throat. Where at first the roar felt raging, aggressive, now it sounds pleading as if the monster doesn't want to fire the blast but is unable to stop.

"Everybody, try and turn Gar around! Aim him somewhere else or he'll hit the city!"

Nightwing's call would be answered in kind but suddenly Gar faces them all, beam charging and eyes glowing even stronger. He will not be moved it seems and anyone who stands in his way will be vaporized. The distraction is just enough time for Raven to leave her body behind and use her soul-self to enter the mind of the creature. Deep within the subconscious is the struggling form of Garfield Logan, desperate to escape the shell he's trapped himself within. "Gar!"

"Raven, I can hear you! Where are you?"

"Gar, you're beast form took over! You have to reverse it or it'll fire a charged beam at the city and kill more people!"

Looking around frantically, it seems the control she'd hoped he'd have isn't there. "I don't know how! I couldn't stop it the last time with Ripper or in Gotham… I can't stop this creature!"

"Yes you can! Concentrate; bring the creature under _your_ control. You're the master, you're the one who powers it, you have to assert yourself and bring yourself back!"

Eyes moist and frantic, Gar looks up at Raven and seems at a loss for sanity. "He took them away from me, Raven. He took away my wife, my daughter… he took away what I always wanted… I… I couldn't let him get away with it."

He can explain later, right now there are lives on the line. "I'm sorry Gar, I am, but right now if you don't stop, more people are going to get hurt and Light won't even be touched. Please, take control."

Floating up to Raven's soul-self, Gar reaches out for his friend with tears freely moving down his face. "Raven… Rachel… I'm sorry for what I've done. I'm sorry I've killed people; sorry I couldn't give you the life you've wanted, sorry I haven't given you the daughter you deserve."

Holding him tight, the two aspects of two souls seem bonded by their mutual desire to help the other, so much so that Gar feels the body start to withdraw while the mind begins to reassert dominance. "I didn't mean to scare you, Raven. All I wanted to do was punish him for what he did."

Whispering as his body starts to black out into sleep, Raven reassures him softly. "And we will. Gar, you'll be alright, I promise you everything's going to be alright…"

* * *

><p>Sometime later Doctor Light and Firefly stagger into the doors of their headquarters. The mission a total failure, most of their hired help is either scattered throughout the city or captured, all seems to be at a total loss for the vaunted Illuminati. But when it rains, it pours. And in the case of one Doctor Light, that rainstorm just became a hurricane as a man steps down from the fore of the room.<p>

"You take one hundred men and women into Titans Tower and you couldn't even defeat eight young adults." Glaring at the two through his single eye, Slade Wilson is anything but amused. "Doctor Light, I'm afraid you're no longer capable of running the Illuminati in the proper fashion it requires."

"Deathstroke the Terminator, what hole did _you_ crawl out of?! And what's this, some sort of futile attempt at capitalizing on one failed mission? You sicken me with your blatant opportunism!"

Hands behind his lower back, Slade maintains his air of confidence. "Charming to the last. I'm afraid your words have little meaning once you discover the financial status of the Illuminati. You shouldn't leave your assets so lightly guarded; someone's liable to come looking for their share of the pie."

Raising his palm projectors, Doctor Light calls out Slade's name in disgust. It's only with a flick of a finger that the lights of the room spark to life, revealing the horror that is all fifty Xavier soldiers. Each holds automatic rifles at Light and Firefly, commanding respect and terror all the same. Sensing the end of negotiation has come, Slade makes the simple remark to the two Illuminati leaders. "What'll it be gentlemen? Serving the new order or death by firing squad?"

* * *

><p>AN2: The League, Titans, and Waller seemingly have the building blocks to a workable future while the Illuminati's under new management. Gar transforms in front of his friends for the first time and I'm sure that's terrifying as shit. Black Myst was never explicitly described as "evil" just that people thought she was crazy. Doesn't meant that Gar was the only mole.

Trivia:  
>- The woman in the trench coat is a shoutout to longtime reader Renting based on a character proposal. More will be coming.<br>- The "Axe Man" is a shoutout to KingofRandom117, more to come.  
>- YDK is reference to Gar's jailhouse friend and longtime reviewerreader You Know Not

Rhetorical:  
>Wait until you read the "negotiation" scene between the LeagueTitans/Waller/Gar, it'll be the Redux 3 1/2 story before we hit Redux 4


End file.
